Midvalley's Serenade
by Jexia
Summary: Epilogue up....some final thoughts. Updating to comply with new directives from FF.net :-P
1. Evergreen's Academy

Evergreen's Academy  
  
He was a bright funny kid younger than I was, probably by 5 or 6 years. We were too far apart in years at the time to be anything but acquaintances, but still, there was something about him that I liked. Maybe it was his sense of humor. No matter what shit got thrown his way, he'd make a joke of it, and on a planet where things get deadly serious on a daily basis, some comic relief is appreciated.  
  
He was seven when he first came to the orphanage. The priest who ran the place was a tall thin man with strange red eyes, named Chapel the Evergreen, and he was so taken by the kid that he actually took out adoption papers. He never did that for any of the other orphans and some of them were jealous. The kid used to follow the priest around like a small shadow and tried to copy his mannerisms. I don't remember who tagged him with the nickname Chapel Junior, but it stuck and for the longest time I didn't know he had another.  
  
It didn't take me long to figure out that Evergreen's Orphanage was different. Most of the ones I heard about, the only qualification you needed was dead parents. But Chapel the Evergreen wouldn't take in just any orphan or foundling. He only selected children with special abilities, and when they were school aged, they attended a special academy that shared the orphanage grounds. It was called Evergreen's Academy.  
  
Academy of what, you might wonder if you saw us out on the weapon range or in the classroom learning how to kill. We learned from professionals to kill quick and clean or ugly and dirty. We were students of murder and death. The actual death of the targets was often less important than the way they died. A particular gruesome death worked as a deterrent. As one instructor put it, "You want to send a message to the living-don't screw up- - you'll get the same or worse."  
  
When I looked at some of my classmates, I thought to myself, what a freak show. One of the strangest was a tall, skinny guy who wore a mask and rarely had a word for anyone, though he would answer if called on in class. He was paralytically shy. If you asked him for the time of day, he'd freeze in place, as if just by noticing him you'd blown his cover. His name was Caine. I used to wonder what he was hiding under the mask. I figured a bad case of acne or a face that only a mother could love. He was a hard guy to get to know and I wondered for weeks what his talent was.  
  
There was only one girl at the academy and her name was Dominique. She had beautiful long dark hair and I thought she was pretty. I don't know if she did or not. She was blind in one eye and wore a patch over it. I think she was sensitive about it. I didn't know all of her story, but even though I admired her from afar, it didn't take me long to figure out that she did not have a real high opinion of the male sex. I can't say I blame her. I don't either, but that's just my personal experience, and I am male myself. What she did have was some kind of mental power. She could teleport and control some people with her mind. Her classmates called her talent the demon's eye. I don't know if I was immune to it or just lucky, but she never used it on me, maybe because I am gifted too.  
  
My name is Midvalley, though some call me Hornfreak or Player and I play the saxophone. I gave my sax a name and I call her Sylvia. She and I share a special bond and together we can do things with that no ordinary player can. Somehow, and I don't even know how I do, I am able to generate sonic waves with my horn that can blow up buildings, cause dust storms--- and kill. You might wonder how a sensitive musician like myself could become a stone killer. I've heard psionic power sometimes develops in children who have had something bad happen to them. I fit the profile. Chapel the Evergreen was happy to recruit me.  
  
If there was anyone who really stood out in the academy, it was Legato Bluesummers. I don't think I have ever seen anyone, man or woman, who was as beautiful as he was. His body was lithe and strong., his face was completely arresting with finely cut features, exotic golden eyes that were usually draped by the bangs of his indigo hair. His voice was velvet dipped in honey. As attractive as Dominique was, it was Legato's face that haunted my dreams, but I felt that his psychic abilities were so far above and beyond mine, I stood in awe of him. I know I wasn't the only one. He seemed to be able to enter our thoughts at will. It embarrassed me when he invaded my privacy.. I couldn't imagine what kind of childhood he suffered through.  
  
There were also many students, with no special standout talents, the ones who paid the bills for the rest of us, as Dominique used to say with her usual dead-on sarcasm. These were the children of political officials- mayors, police chiefs who thought it might be advantageous to get in good with Chapel the Evergreen and by extension with the Evergreen's boss, a mysterious person named Knives Millions. Despite the fact that Master Millions is crippled, he is by far the most powerful man on the planet. He outright owns a lot of it and what he doesn't own, he influences. He influenced a lot of mayors and they sent their sons to Evergreen's Academy to learn to work for Knives.  
  
The son of the mayor of Epril Town was a guy in his mid-teens named Lou Mazarov He didn't have a lot of social graces, but he sure had a talent for fucking up shit. It seems every organization benefits from having some strong-arm thugs. That was the part that Mazaroff was being groomed to play.  
  
Into this un-level playing field stumbles the new kid. Little Chapel Junior. He's cute. He's funny. Believe when I say that this was one adorable kid. He looked and acted normal which in the collection of psionic freaks made him standout. I wondered what his talent was. I found out when I acted as his score keeper on his first day out at the weapon range. It blew my mind how good he was with a handgun or rifle-a natural, I guess. Some kind of hand-eye coordination thing. He shoots, he scores.  
  
Chapel Jr. was the youngest person at the academy. Three years later, Legato had left the school to become Knives Millions right-hand man. As for me, I was still learning a lot about the jobs I would carry out for Master Knives. Killing is easy. But killing professionally and learning to survive the job, that is a lot harder. Our teachers were professional hitmen. They briefed us on the mistakes and problems with their missions so that we could avoid the same pitfalls. We learned how to stalk our targets and plan our hits. Planning was very important. Marksmanship, too was a good part of what we did as it made the job so much easier and that's where Chapel Junior shined.  
  
Mazarov, on the other hand, sucked at it. He was already jealous of Chapel Junior and the Evergreen didn't make things any easier by comparing the two. I was at the range one day and saw the tall priest ragging Mazarov mercilessly.  
  
"Doesn't it embarrass you that a ten year old can shoot rings around you? You've been here six years and you're still jerking the trigger. You don't aim. You're a waste of ammunition. You don't think before you act. I'll be talking with your father today. Keep screwing up, I'll kick you out and he can deal with you."  
  
Now Mazarov may have been lousy at planning and shooting but he was also one very brutal guy with a gang of 4 of bullies to back him up, all just as brutal as he is. The gang would hang out together and egg each other on to do some crazy things. Mostly they talked big, but sometimes they would get drunk and fuck up the shit of whoever was pissing them off, a kid who looked at them funny, a girl who wouldn't put out, drunks and drifters. They used to shake down old ladies for their grocery money then spend it on liquor. They put people in hospitals.  
  
I never had to take any crap from them. I've taken enough over the years that I've learned to handle myself in a fight. But I could see that Mazarov would love nothing more than to get hold of Chapel Junior and beat him within an inch of his life or worse, just to get back at Evergreen. And I was thinking that the only thing keeping Chapel Junior from getting the ass-kicking of his life is the fact that his daddy is Chapel the Evergreen, a dangerous man who knows more about killing than Mazarov can even imagine and the one man who can keep him from graduating.  
  
But amazingly, enough, Mazarov finally passed all his courses and his final exam was an intimidation job so bloody it made the front page of the daily news.  
  
I graduated too with some distinction though the hit I carried out was only an item on the police blotter as a missing persons case.  
  
Every year the academy rewards the graduates with an all-day celebration that includes a picnic, a quick-draw tournament, some sharp-shooting contests and combat exhibitions followed by a dance. The four- piece band I play with was going to provide the music.  
  
The contests were nothing lethal. The ammo for the quick draw was paint balls and rubber bullets. Evergreen would have thought it a poor economy to put so much effort into training and then damage the graduates just as they were starting out.  
  
Chapel Junior was on fire that day, destroying the competition. He seemed to have no nerves and could not be intimidated. It was embarrassing how good he was, this little squirt of a ten-year old without a mark on him and his much older opponents all splattered with paint. Dominique didn't take part in the contest. She might have won if she used her psi power. As for me, I didn't want to get my new suit dirty. By the time the gunsmoke cleared, Chapel was the clear winner.  
  
Caine gave a special exhibition that day. At three PM we were all supposed to watch a beer bottle that was set up on a small pedestal. At three PM sharp it exploded into shards. Everyone was wondering where Caine was. Turns out he had shot the thing from 3 iles away. Now that's a talent.  
  
Quite a bit of liquor was flowing that day. Even Evergreen was partaking. I had a few beers, but didn't want to get wasted because I was looking forward to playing with my band. I saw Mazarov surrounded by his cronies. They seemed in rowdy good moods, chugging, practically bathing in beer.  
  
Chapel Junior was running around in his shorts and T-shirt showing everyone the prizes he won. He came up to me, kind of happy, shy, and a little embarrassed. "Look, Midvalley."  
  
He held up a fancy silk gold ribbon with some writing on it-- #1 Sharpshooter, and tipped the plaque he'd won so I could see the writing.  
  
"Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Quick Draw-First Place," I said as I read the inscription aloud. "I didn't know that was your name."  
  
He nodded and blushed. "You can keep calling me Chapel, though. Everybody does."  
  
"Well, congratulations, Chapel. You really are a great shot."  
  
"Maybe my dad will finally be proud of me," he said.  
  
"I'm sure he will be."  
  
"Thanks, Midvalley." He smiled and ran off again. Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The name suited him.  
  
I picked up my sax at my student apartment and . On the way to the bandstand I ran into the Evergreen, but I don't think he registered who I was. His red eyes were glazed over. I had never seen him drunk before.  
  
I also passed by Mazarov and his crowd. He had gotten more than a little wasted and was slapping one of his gang around. "Get more beer, ya dummy," he slurred, "and fuckin' hurry up about it or I will kick your fuckin' ass, dummy!"  
  
My band mates were already setting up at the bandstand. Bob was tuning his guitars, both the electric and acoustic while Randy was checked the amp for his bass. Lenny, the percussionist and a close friend of mine, shook a new pair of maracas energetically. "Whaddaya think, Middie?" he asked me.  
  
"I like it a lot. It would be perfect for that Calypso swing number."  
  
"That's what I was thinking!"  
  
"Great minds."  
  
I love this band. When people ask about us, I usually say, what we lack in skill we make up for in volume, but that's selling us short I think. We've been practicing together for a couple of years, and if I do say so myself, we're pretty good.  
  
By the second sundown a nice crowd had collected on the grounds around the bandstand. There were lots of pretty girls from the businesses, shops and bars in Epril town.. Our band's posters had been up for a month. There must have been a couple of hundred people there. Besides the students and staff at the academy and the girls, there were farmers, clerks, and salesmen. The dance floor was decent.  
  
My band started out with a few hard fast loud songs-Shout my Name, Trigger Happy and Quicksand, just to get the audience's attention, and we did. When the dancers tired and we needed a breather too, we played Kiss me Stupid, a slow number with a heavy bass line and a growly sax solo that had the couples grinding crotches as they danced. We followed up in quick succession with-Under the Weather, Five Moons Waltz, then a silly novelty number-the Poke Her Polka. We closed out the set with a piece I composed that I'm very proud of, called "Silvia's Tune".  
  
When I saw Dominique dancing with Caine on that one, you could have knocked me over I was so surprised, because the music is very romantic and romance is not a word that I would ever associate with Caine. I was even more surprised when they kissed. How was that even possible through a mask? I mean, the guy had no lips. I had to shake my head. Maybe I was just a bit jealous.  
  
Around 9:30 that night I saw young Chapel again. He was swinging and swaying in time with the band and smiling as if this was the best music of the best day ever. Somewhere around 10, Mazarov and his gang melted away, much to the relief of the ladies present. The music wound down around 11:30 and by midnight, my sax was packed in its case and I was ready to call it a night. I said good-bye to the band and turned down a breakfast invitation from Lenny because I had had a long day and I wanted some time alone.  
  
It was a beautiful evening. The days in a desert are hot as hell, but at night the temperature cools and the breezes are refreshing. Three moons were out, two nearly full. I was still feeling high from the music we made that night. As I walked down a path in the park where the picnic had taken place, I caught a shadowy glimpse of something rounded and white on the ground in the distance. It seemed to be moving just a little. I had to laugh to myself. It looked like a naked butt. Then I heard a moan and grinned. Maybe my saxophone playing had inspired a little late night midsummer sex. Well, hey, I'm only human, so I sneaked up closer to get a better view of the action.  
  
But the moaning stopped and the butt I saw was hardly moving, much to my disappointment. Then some clouds moved across the moons and it got so dark I could hardly see. I could only make out one form lying on the ground. So now I was guessing I wasn't looking at a couple screwing, but at some drunk who went out looking for action but passed out before he could seal the deal.  
  
Much as I hate dealing with drunks, I decided to check to see if he was all right. I always hope that someone would do the same for me. So I ambled closer if a little reluctantly and then realized the guy was throwing up. I could see his shoulders working and the smell hit me. "Oh this is nice," I said sarcastically, as I fought my gag reflex and began to rethink the Good Samaritan scenario. But I was still feeling so mellow from the music, I decided to help out anyway.  
  
"Can't let him drown in his own vomit.," I said to myself.  
  
The cloud cover lifted. The fourth moon had risen and it was so bright I could have read a newspaper by the light.  
  
But what I was looking at was all wrong and suddenly I felt sick and queasy and it wasn't the gag reflex.  
  
I was looking at Chapel Junior naked from the waist down, his T-shirt in shreds. He was making little moaning sounds while blood leaked from his rectum. It hurt too much to look at him, so I looked away and saw the fancy ribbon he was so proud of, ripped and stained with pee and shit. His plaque was smashed. I put two and two together and figured he was in this shape because of Mazarov. I looked back at the kid and I was sick inside. He had bruises on his back like someone kicked his ribs. I was half-afraid to touch him as though he would break if I did. He had the come of five guys all over his back and ass. I didn''t know what to do or what I could possibly say, but I asked him as kindly as I could thinking to myself how dumb can you get, "Chapel, are you all right?"  
  
"Midvalley," he said in a wobbly voice that tore my heart up, "It hurts. I'm so cold."  
  
I took off my jacket and it occurred to me to tell him what I was going to do. "I'm going to wrap you up in so you'll feel a little warmer."  
  
I turned him over. He had come in his hair and eyelashes, on his chest and shirt and more bruises near his ribs. "Oh, god, Nick," somehow the name just slipped out of my lips," I need to take you to a hospital."  
  
"No! Please, Midvalley. I don't want anyone to know. If anyone finds out-- -oh god---I couldn'---I couldn't..."  
  
He didn't need to finish the thought for me. I knew he was thinking he'd rather kill himself than live with the shame of what just happened to him. But I also knew that somehow he trusted me to keep his secret safe.  
  
"Please, Midvalley, take me home with you. Just for tonight." He was trying to be so brave, holding back the tears, but his voice trembled with the effort.  
  
I didn't think about it much. I said "Okay," picked him up and hefted him over my right shoulder. He was a little heavy but not bad. It was only about a quarter ile to my apartment, and it was no problem to carry my sax too. I made the trip in less than 5 minutes.  
  
When I got to my room, I didn't know what to do for him first, but he moaned again and he was starting to shiver. "It hurts so bad. I'm so cold, Midvalley."  
  
I put him under the covers of my bed and got another blanket. He rolled over to face the wall. From the stiff tight way he held his back, I could tell he was hurting. I turned off the overhead lamp and the light from three moons fell through the window and painted shadows on the wall of my bedroom.  
  
"Rest now," I whispered. "Just rest." I touched his back softly.  
  
He didn't say anything. I could see his shoulders shaking a little. I knew he was crying though he didn't make a sound.  
  
I went into the bathroom to get a glass of water and some pills for the pain. I filled a basin with hot water and got a washcloth. I turned on the lamp by my bed and sat on a chair facing Chapel. His face froze when he saw mine as if he could stop the tears in their tracks.  
  
He was a tough kid and probably ashamed to be caught crying, so I acted like I hadn't seen them. I wet the cloth and wiped the gunk off from his lashes and his face as gently as I could, saying whatever I thought might ease the situation. I told him I had some pills for the pain.  
  
"Just swallow them, Chapel," I said.  
  
He got a look on his face like a cornered animal when I said that, and moaned almost desperately. Then he started to talk so soft and fast I couldn't catch all the words.  
  
"Swallow?" he said fiercely. "Swallow? They did things...I couldn't stop them... oh god, they held me...couldn't breathe... so ashamed...took turns...all laughing...and... Mazarov...had knife... kicking me...they...they...did things. Midvalley, I couldn't stop them...just lay there like nothing...while...and then..." he let out a high pitched sob at the memory, " Midvalley,"his voice was almost pleading, "it hurt so bad.like being torn up inside and I just ...lay there and took it. I'm nothing now. I feel so dirty, Midvalley. I just want to get clean again. I just want to get clean." He started crying then and he couldn't stop. I got him a handkerchief. It hurt to see him in so much pain.  
  
"I'll run a bath," I said and left the room. In a few minutes I came back and set a bathrobe on the bed for him, then left again to give him some privacy and to find him a towel, soap and washcloth.. When I came out he was wrapped up in the robe that was way too big for him and he was making his way across the floor with a hitching step and an expression of pure agony on his young face. When he got to the door I asked him, "You're not going to kill yourself, are you, Chapel?"  
  
He stopped for a full beat, then shook his head. He closed the door. I heard him throwing up again and again. When that stopped I could hear him crying.  
  
He must have stayed in the tub for a long time because when he came out his fingers were wrinkled, but he was walking better and he had stopped crying. I remember thinking that he looked like a sad, beautiful angel. He swallowed the pills on the bedside table and looked at me. The happy-go- lucky kid I had seen at the bandstand was gone. The boy in front of me was light years older now with a deep and personal knowledge of just how bad life can get. He started to shiver, his teeth were chattering.  
  
I touched his hand. It was ice cold. He must have stayed soaking long after the warmth had left the water. I led him to the bed. "Get under the covers, Chapel. You're freezing."  
  
He did what I said and lay there, shivering. I sat down beside him on the bed and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Look, Chapel, I doubt that it will make you feel any better, but I know what you're going through. What happened to you tonight happened to me a few years ago."  
  
Chapel's eyes filled with tears again at this fresh reminder of his ordeal, but he fought to master them.  
  
"Did you get even, Midvalley?" he asked me.  
  
"Yeah, I got even," I said with a grin. "Equal measures of pain and humiliation."  
  
"I'll make them pay some day," the boy said with a grim tone.  
  
"You're not going to do anything stupid, are you, Chapel?"  
  
"I'll do what I have to."  
  
"You want to know what I think, Chapel?"  
  
He looked at me from the bed and nodded.  
  
"School is out for the summer. Mazarov and his gang are gone. They won't be bragging about what they did because they would never want your dad to find out. Your dad was so drunk last night, he won't have a clue about what happened to you. No one knows but me and I'm not telling. If you want to keep this a secret, it is safe with me."  
  
"I wish I could stay to help you deal with this, but I am moving on to assignments tomorrow. What happened to you is hard, I know, but when I'm gone you won't have anyone to talk to about it. So, I want to let you know what I know."  
  
"It wasn't your fault. I don't want you to let this eat away at you. I don't want you to lose your smile or your sense of humor over this. The worst thing you can do is to let what they did affect you. If it does then it means they won. Don't let them win, Chapel."  
  
Then Chapel said the damnedest thing.  
  
"Midvalley, everybody says that you're as queer as a $$3 bill. How can you stand to do it like that when it hurts so bad. Did you want me to pay you back for what you did for me like that? I don't think I can."  
  
I know I blushed when he said that and then I just burst out laughing, it just struck me so funny.  
  
"Chapel, I don't expect any payback. I'm helping you because someone helped me. I know what you're going through. Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
"You're a good man, Midvalley," he said.  
  
"No, I'm not, but thanks for the thought. Try to sleep for a while."  
  
He was so exhausted from his ordeal that he finally did drop off.  
  
"God, that poor kid." I thought as I watched over him. "He's so young to go through something like that."  
  
When memories of my own experiences came rushing back and threatened to overwhelm me, I took my sax from the case and cradled it in my hands.  
  
"Help me, Silvia. Help me through this," I whispered and softly played to keep the thoughts at bay.  
  
In a couple of hours, I found myself looking out the window at the sky. The moons were setting and the stars were flickering out.  
  
If Chapel didn't get home soon, the Evergreen might start to wonder where he was.  
  
I turned from the window and saw the boy looking at me.  
  
"It's almost dawn. Do you want to go back home now?" I asked him.  
  
He nodded his head., so I got him a T-shirt, some cut-off sweat pants, a pair of flip-flops and then went into the kitchen while he dressed. He came to the doorway while I was brewing a pot of coffee and pulling some donuts out of a bakery box . The clothes were way too big on him, but they were clean  
  
"Do you want some breakfast?" I asked him.  
  
"Yes, please," he said, and joined me at the table, wincing in pain as he sat down. When the coffee was ready, I poured two cups and set one in front of him.  
  
"There's cream and sugar," I said, as I poured a dollop of cream in my cup.  
  
"Thanks," he said, "but I take mine black."  
  
He dunked his donut into the coffee, took a bite and said, "This is really good."  
  
I smiled a little at that, happy that he could still take pleasure in things after what had happened to him the night before.  
  
In a few minutes he was done.  
  
"I owe you a big one, Midvalley. I won't forget it. I mean this. I will pay you back some day."  
  
"I believe you, Chapel. But just remember what I said. Don't let them win, and for God's sake, take care of yourself. No one else will."  
  
He nodded and left. I thought about him more than a few times that day while I was packing my bags, but after I met up with Leonof and he handed me my first briefing packet, I completely forgot about the kid.  
  
To be continued 


	2. Dominique

Dominique  
  
And so I was recruited into an organization known as the Gung-Ho Guns. We are soldiers of fortune in the pay of a very special being, one Knives Million, as close to a god as anything I've ever seen on this planet. I have seen the power, breadth and control of his mind in action and felt humbled by it. I do my best with the small part I play to accomplish whatever tasks I am set by him and Legato. Silvia and I have killed for them so many times. But I still play Silvia for me and find a way to make music with whatever half-way decent band I can find. Legato allows it as long as it doesn't interfere with my assignments. It hasn't so far. And so time passed.  
  
It was amazing just how quickly the time passed. Was I only seventeen when I put my horn into the service of Knives? Some five years later, I was now one of the professional hitmen asked to instruct students at Evergreen's Academy. I was curious to see Chapel Junior again or was he going by Wolfwood now I wondered. But my timing was off. I learned that he had entered a seminary and was studying for the priesthood. With what he had experienced of sex so far, perhaps celibacy was the attraction, but then again maybe he was just following in the Evergreen's footsteps.  
  
I was curious to see what became of Mazarov. So, I asked Dominique the Cyclops, who like me was a guest instructor, if she had heard anything about him.  
  
"Why would anyone even ask after that piece of garbage?"  
  
I grinned. "In hopes that something rotten happened to him, why else, Dominique?"  
  
"You're really not so bad, Midvalley. For a man."  
  
"Coming from you that's like saying you think I'm kind of cute and if you think I'm kind of cute, how come Caine rated a kiss at that graduation dance and I didn't. Is Caine your kind of man?"  
  
Dominique put on a superior smile and cocked an eyebrow. "And where did you get the idea that Caine was a man? Did you think that only a man could shoot a beer bottle from three iles away?"  
  
"Caine's a woman? I'm sorry I sound so surprised. Maybe I should have guessed, knowing your preferences."  
  
"Don't presume to judge me, Midvalley. You really don't know me or my preferences all that well. But it pleases me to answer your question about Mazarov and his gang. Someone actually shot off their cocks and balls. I am not making this up. I was jealous that I hadn't thought of doing it myself. The best part of the story is that the news got leaked to Eagle magazine and someone got hold of emergency room photos and the pictures of the Dick-less, Ball-less Gang was featured. One of the magazine artists air-brushed a bustier on Mazarov. I can't believe you missed that issue. It came out about a month after you graduated. Whoever pulled that job off was a genius!"  
  
"God, how did I miss that?" I said with a broad grin on my face. "I was apprenticed to Leonof at the time and he liked to pull the strings."  
  
"Yeah, but from the way you're smiling, I bet you know who did it."  
  
"No, not really."  
  
"Well, keep your little secret then, Midvalley , if you can, but I warn you, I mean to pry it out of you."  
  
"If you want to pry, I'm jamming with the band at the White Cat Saloon. Drop by around 8 tonight and I'll buy you a drink. The first set starts around 8:30. You just might like it, but it really starts hopping at 10."  
  
"Well, thanks for the offer. If I'm in the mood later, I just might take you up on it."  
  
"Silvia could put you in the mood, if you'd let her."  
  
"You flirting with me, Hornfreak?"  
  
"Stranger things have happened..."  
  
She smiled mysteriously and then vanished.  
  
I sat for awhile thinking about Chapel. I grinned when I thought about how he paid back Mazarov. Pain and humiliation in equal measure. I wondered how he was. Would he be 17 or 18 now? The priesthood-celibacy-a life without sex. It was hard for me, Midvalley the Hornfreak, to imagine.  
  
I have never lacked for sex partners. I suppose I have to chalk a lot of that up to Silvia. There's something about a saxophone player that brings out the groupie in an otherwise normal person. It wouldn't surprise me if the saxophiles in the audience lined up tonight after the last set or during the breaks, trying to arrange a rendezvous, scribbling down addresses and mash notes. It happens to me almost every time I play and I often pick a bed partner from the group, but I found Dominique's challenging personality attractive and wondered what she was like in bed and if I could seduce her . I'm not really picky about whether a sex partner is male or female. Sometimes I think if I ever met a tomas with an intelligent face I might be tempted to pull an all-nighter , but I haven't met one yet. Still, that carapace is mysterious. And speaking of mysterious, was Caine really a woman? I wondered what she looked like behind the mask. If Caine was a woman, it would explain a lot, or was Dominique just messing with my mind again?  
  
Dominique didn't show up at the White Cat until the last set was half-way over. I saw her come in and move to a table in the back of the saloon. After the song we were playing was over, I signaled to the barmaid and sent her over to Dominique's table, told her to put whatever she ordered on my tab. And I asked the band to play a few different numbers than planned. Something seductive.  
  
So we played a smoky rendition of "Lip Service", quite a few couples on the dance floor were acting this one out enjoying prolonged kisses as they moved slowly across the room. I tried to gauge if the music had any effect on Dominique, but she seemed cool, maybe a little bored. I thought about playing "Cocksure" next but thought that might have been waving a red flag and opted instead for "Moonbreeze", a moody piece with an unusual rhythm and a sax solo that lets me show off my chops. She applauded at the end of it and looked less bored anyway. For a finale, I picked "Silvia's Tune" knowing full well the last time she had heard me play it.  
  
The band and I were tight, hot and in the groove on this one and the dancers knew it. Silvia's glissandos and growls ran the gamut from pure to pure raunch and most of the couples' seemed glued together from waist to thigh as they moved to the sinuous flow of the music. I lost myself in playing and only realized we were done when the audience broke into applause and wolf whistles. I opened my eyes and saw Dominique with an amused smile on her lips. She was clapping along with the crowd. She was looking at me in a new way. Nice work, Silvia!  
  
She came with me to my apartment. I didn't really expect that from her. I had the feeling with that she was the kind who wanted to call the shots in a relationship. I no sooner closed the door than her hand was on my crotch and her tongue was in my mouth. She seemed to be in an awful hurry. Why was that?  
  
I managed to detach my mouth and crotch and asked her in a calm relaxed tone, "Dominique, is there someplace else you have to be in the next few hours?"  
  
"No," she said, a little uncertainly.  
  
"Good," I said with smile. "I want to get to know you better. You seem a little tense."  
  
"Mmm," she said in reply.  
  
I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, slicked my hair back, tied a towel around my waist and went back to the living room, she had taken off her coat and was looking through my music collection.  
  
"Anything special you were looking for?" I asked.  
  
"You were really good tonight, Midvalley. I don't know the name of that last song you played but I'd like to hear it again."  
  
"Silvia's Tune."  
  
"Silvia? Isn't that what you call your saxophone?  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Did you write that song?" she asked me.  
  
"Uh-huh," I responded and brought out the album-"Hornfreak Gold", slid the disk from the jacket and slipped it onto the player, set the volume and the music began.  
  
I moved up slowly behind her, clasped my arms around her and pulled her into me and she didn't resist.  
  
"What will you let yourself feel with me?" I whispered into her ear. My hands moved slowly and cupped the curves of her breasts through her clothes. "Can you let go? Lose control? What will you let yourself be with me?"  
  
She turned in my embrace and offered me her lips. I took them tenderly with mine as if they were wounded and needed extra loving care. I thought that about her while I was kissing her. That is the truth of Dominique, that she feels wounded with the blinded eye. She wears a tough persona, but inside---oh, Dominique. I took her by the hand and walked with her to the bedroom.  
  
She sighed softly.  
  
I slipped the suede vest from her shoulders and let it fall on a chair. Slowly, button by button, I unfastened the silky shirt she wore. I unclasped the hooks of her bra, and shirt and bra joined the vest on the chair and when we were naked, I invited her to lie down. I sat beside her looking her over, searching for a feature that would ignite a strong erotic response in me.  
  
She was a beauty, even with the patch on her eye with the satin fall of her dark hair, and tawny skin , but I was looking for something more extraordinary than mere beauty. Dominique lay with her hand held almost protectively over her left breast. The posture caught my attention. I took that hand in mine and pressed it down onto the bed above her head and examined the skin she had been hiding. There was a puckered asterisk of a scar on the curve of her breast just a finger's length above her left nipple. I was captivated.  
  
"Bullet hole?"  
  
"Mmm," she said, "Just missed the lung."  
  
With my head so close to the pointed nub of her breast, I took the opportunity to kiss it as I had her lips. Her nipple hardened. I softened it with the moist tip of my tongue and then teased some more with my lips. Dominique lay with her eyes closed and simply breathed. I continued the play of tongue and lips probing the nipple deeper with my tongue and then rolling the nub gently but firmly between my dry lips. My actions drew a deep moan out of Dominique. I smiled at the sound. And so I kept my mouth on her breast and teased and sucked and played it as if it were Silvia's reed. I was just getting warmed up.  
  
I was beginning to understand the complexity of the mouthpiece I had chosen. The topography and borders of this piece of flesh, the aureole and the small bump of erectile tissue at its center. For the moment, this was a world that I wanted to explore and understand. It was amazingly responsive to the touch of my mouth, the actions of my tongue and my lips, just like Silvia. I took my time, all the time I needed, to stroke and tongue and kiss and lap and suck and circle and nip and rub.  
  
Dominique began to gasp and wail and moan and sigh, just like Silvia.  
  
"Stop, stop it you're driving me crazy! No, no, no! Don't ever stop. Ah, just like that."  
  
Harder and deeper I probed that breast with my questing tongue, she arched it up to me, begging me not to stop, as if I ever would before my song was done.  
  
She began to writhe, her legs clamped tightly together, her pelvis jerking with small movements. My entire focus was on that left nipple, tonguing tasting feeling teasing that nubbin of taupe flesh that hardened and softened as I kissed it wet and rubbed it dry with my lips, then teased it again, never stopping, and Dominique's moans grew more insistent. She rolled her hips from side to side. "Fuck me, Midvalley," she moaned.  
  
"You really want me to stop this," I asked with a slow smile as my lips left her breast.  
  
No, don't stop," she whispered and I went back to that breast and suckled her nipple with my tongue, relishing its warmth and texture. Then I started to fuck her nipple with my hardened tongue and probed deep into the aureole while her she panted and shivered. Her sighs of pleasure and wanting aroused me. With my cock engorged, my breath came sharp and deep.  
  
"Fuck me, Midvalley," she said again and she shifted her hips to let me enter. My cock slid into the slick hot silk of her cunt and it felt so good I gasped with pleasure and started to thrust in her. She opened her legs wide and clasped them around my back, threw her neck back and groaned with pleasure from each thrust.  
  
I moved faster and faster in her, the friction of the coupling so hot and wet, Dominique was losing control, almost at the edge and then over. Her body shook as her orgasms started and when she came and came again, I felt her cunt expand and contract around my cock, milking me. All out of control, I shuddered, gasped and trembled with the intensity of my own hard, hot spasms as I came in her.  
  
I stayed inside her while my sweat dried, my breath calmed, and my heartbeat slowed and I looked at her with a satisfied smile.  
  
When I pulled out, she turned over on her side, leaned on one elbow and grinned at me "So, do you know any other songs, Midvalley?"  
  
"One or two."  
  
I grinned back, leaned over and whispered, "So what's Caine like in bed?"  
  
"Well, she's really shy and detached, but her ability to concentrate is phenomenal."  
  
"That's a pretty good trait in a bed partner," I said with a chuckle.  
  
She blushed crimson and snorted with laughter. "I'll say! Concentration is good. But I'm lying here realizing that I just had sex with the only other half-way normal Gung-Ho Gun. I thought the academy was bad enough, but the new kids at the academy-Hoppered and E. G. Mine, and Grey? They make Caine look normal.  
  
"Speaking of normal, you were at the academy for a couple of years after I left. Whatever happened to Chapel Junior? I heard he was going to be a priest. When did that happen?"  
  
"He quit the academy when he was 15. He got sick that year. He was in the hospital for a couple of weeks. Next thing I knew he was moving out, going to a seminary near December to study for the priesthood. As far as I know he's still there. I think they spend 5 or 6 years in preparation. He quit just when he was starting to get interesting."  
  
"Did you like him?"  
  
"To tell you the truth I was a little bit jealous. You know how you'd be minding your business and then suddenly, the hair on your neck stands up and Legato's voice is in your head. That used to freak me out so bad. I never saw that happen to Chapel. I used to wonder if Legato couldn't read him."  
  
"Is that why you didn't enter the quick draw competition the year I graduated?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Because you couldn't use your demon's eye on him?"  
  
"Hey, that's for me to know. Why didn't you compete?"  
  
"I didn't want to get paint all over my suit. But at least I'm honest enough to admit it."  
  
"What if you could have used Silvia?"  
  
"Silvia and me, in a real contest? I truly think that Silvia would have the edge, but tell me more about Caine. Is she pretty?"  
  
"God, you're pushy. You tell me who shot up Mazarov."  
  
I just grinned again.  
  
"You know. I just know you know!"  
  
"So make your move, Dominique. Try and make me give it up."  
  
She rolled onto me, slipped her tongue into my mouth and put her hand on my crotch, but this time she didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry at all.  
  
To be continued 


	3. The Apprentice

I don't own Trigun and I am not profiting from this fan fiction The Apprentice  
  
Another five years passed in an eyeblink it seemed. I still instructed at the academy from time to time, teaching the students the practical mechanics of murder. And then if that weren't enough, I would occasionally get the unpleasant job of breaking in a green partner, fresh from the academy. And so it was I got word that "they", I usually assumed this meant Legato on orders from Master Knives, wanted me to partner with a new guy and help him along in his new profession.  
  
A week after I got the news, I was nursing a drink in the bar waiting for the partner to show up. "Novices," I thought to myself and rolled my eyes and knocked back the shot. So much for nursing it. I flirted a bit with the bar boy whose ass looked as tight as a drumhead and ordered another one. I sat by the window remembering all the problems I had had with previous partners. Could I ever have been that naïve? Frankly I was less than thrilled.  
  
Out the window, I saw the bus arrive. It disgorged a few farmers, some salesmen, but nothing that looked like partner material. The bar server came back with my drink. He was blocking my view of the batwing doors when someone pushed them open and stepped into the bar. I whistled softly and muttered to myself, "What a long cool drink of water."  
  
My eyes noted the big cross he carried on his shoulder, but I was too busy admiring his shoulders and his face to pay it much attention. From the casual dark bangs that brushed his forehead, cool shades on his eyes, a friendly smile on his lips, and an open collar that exposed a large expanse of smooth tan skin, he was the most attractive man I had seen in years. And he was checking me out-all six feet plus of him. He slipped his shades into the pocket of his black jacket and I noticed the silver crosses on the ends of his sleeves.As if the cross hadn't given it away. A priest. What a waste! But this priest was grinning at me and he had a great smile. "There is a God and He loves me as long as this guy doesn't try to convert me," I thought to myself.  
  
The priest walked up to my table and said, "Goddamn, Midvalley. Long time no see!"  
  
"Do I know you?" I asked him in a puzzled voice.  
  
"I guess I got taller," he said and shrugged.  
  
"Chapel?!" I rose to my feet.  
  
"You got it in one. Hey, I'm flattered."  
  
To my surprise , he pulled me into an affectionate hug. I liked the feel of his arms around me. "I really missed you when you left. I'm parched. Can I join you for a drink?"  
  
"Well, I'd love to, but I'm waiting for someone."  
  
"Oh, well, we can talk later then, partner."  
  
"Shit! You're the partner? I have to admit the cross threw me off. You're who I was waiting for."  
  
I signaled to the bar boy, and asked Chapel, "Is beer good for you? You said you were parched.I'm buying."  
  
"A beer would be great.and an ash tray."  
  
"I was just sitting here dreading breaking in a new partner. Come to think of it, I still am. But it is good to see you too, Chapel. What did they feed you that you grew so tall?"  
  
"All the cigarettes and black coffee I can handle."  
  
The waiter brought the drinks and ash tray. Chapel lifted his beer bottle, tipped back his head and took a long deep drink from it. He sighed and pressed the chilled bottle against his face. "God that was good and cold." He reached into his jacket, pulled out a cigarette and a book of matches, lit up, and took a deep drag.  
  
I couldn't take my eyes off him. The white shirt set off his dusky complexion. The open collar revealed so much of his neck and chest.and he was smiling at me. Whether he intended it or not, I was totally turned on. I could not remember the last time I had experienced this degree of animal lust.  
  
This was no way to start out with a new partner.  
  
"Midvalley, I've never seen you so flustered."  
  
"Well, it's just that I am really glad to see you again. Let me bum a cigarette off you."  
  
Beneath the table I had a rigid hard-on. He just looked so damned good to me.  
  
"It's really good to see you again, too, Midvalley," he said and he reached over and laid a hand on my shoulder.  
  
His touch sent such a jolt of sensation through me, my groin quivered.  
  
"God, what a hot day!" I exclaimed and sighed deeply.  
  
"Yeah, really hot. My motorcycle had a little problem with sand in the air intake, and it took me an hour to fix it. But I finally got her road worthy again. But I think I got a little dehydrated working in the sun. Can I buy you a beer, Midvalley?"  
  
"Sure." Finally my body had calmed to the extent that I could actually think straight. I was really curious.  
  
"So, you're a priest.Did you take a vow of chastity? How does all that work out?"  
  
"The rules aren't as strict as they used to be. I didn't take a vow, but I am. Chaste."  
  
What a waste, I thought again to myself.  
  
"Do you still play Midvalley?"  
  
"I'm actually getting a little famous. I compose a little and I made some recordings and I am well on my way to reaching cult status.at least for the small group of sax fans that are into what I do. Actually I contacted the band that plays here and I'm jamming with them tonight. Told them my name, said they'd be honored-honored.if I did."  
  
"I'm not surprised. I always thought you were really good."  
  
"I've gotten better."  
  
"Then I am really looking forward to hearing you play. But it can't all be pleasure."  
  
I groaned inwardly as he said that.  
  
"That's right. The mission. We need to do some planning and hash out the details, but there's no real rush. The deadline for completion is a few days off. I booked us a room upstairs already."  
  
God help me I thought. How do I make it through the night?  
  
The band I was jamming with called themselves Blue Wave. We started out with some classics, I know the band members were getting used to me, as I was to them., kind of fore-play before the main event. But when the second set started, it was obvious that we clicked. The bass player found a deep moody line that defined the structure of the song. The drummer added a sulky syncopation that simmered just below boiling. The guitarist plucked jewels of jangling discord, and above all this beautifully meshed sound, Silvia's voice soared bright as a sky rocket in the night arching ever higher and higher hitting a brilliant note , lingering sustaining it and then plunging down into the lower registers with hot heavy visceral growls.  
  
The audience ate it up. I saw Wolfwood at his corner table on his feet clapping enthusiastically.  
  
"Another one of your groupies, Midvalley?" joked the drummer. "He's cute. Nice shoulders."  
  
"Tell me about it," I sighed. "But seriously, he's a friend. We go way back."  
  
"Hey, no offense meant."  
  
"None taken. How about we play "Moons Rise" next?"  
  
"Okay by me."  
  
So we played some more. There were quite a few couples out on the floor. Between numbers, I checked to see how Chapel was doing. He seemed to be chain-smoking and drinking steadily. A number of attractive women were checking him out, lingering by his table trying to make eye contact and flirt. He oozed sex appeal, but seemed completely unaware of the fact and managed to deflect all advances, much to the chagrin of the ladies who looked back at him with expressions of regret.  
  
I went down to sit with him for a while after the third set. I noticed one of his eyes was tearing.  
  
"Something get in your eye, " I asked?  
  
"Yeah, your music. You're really good, Midvalley. You could make a living at this. But I think I do have something stuck in my eye."  
  
"Come on, get up, let me see. there's not enough light here. Chapel was a little unsteady on his feet. I guess the drinking had caught up with him. I guided him to a part of the room where a wall sconce was burning. My heart was doing flip-flops as I tilted his head back, pulled on his lower eyelid and looked inside and found a fair-sized piece of grit.  
  
My heart wasn't the only organ doing flip-flops from touching him. Lucky my suit jacket was cut generously enough to hide the mambo going on in my pants. His body was driving me crazy. But I got the grit out of his eye.  
  
"Must have been the windstorm," he mumbled and swayed slightly.  
  
"You look exhausted, Chapel. Why don't you skip the last set and get some shut-eye."  
  
"Yeah," he said with a slight slur, "it was a long trip in." He turned and lurched a bit unsteadily, but then righted himself and headed for the staircase. "'Night, Middie. Thanks for the music."  
  
After the last set was over, I lingered at the bar over a brandy, thinking about the twist of fate that had brought Chapel back into my life. When I thought of his body and smile again, another wave of lust went through me, but I beat it back. I could see he was shy sexually. With the rape in his past, it was almost inevitable, that he would be.  
  
"He really needs to get over that," I told myself. My sexual self- confidence put a smile on my face, ".And I'm just the man for the job."  
  
Despite my declaration of self-confidence, when I opened the door of the hotel room and saw him lying on one of the beds half-dressed, I became almost dizzy with desire. Just to see the elegant lines of his slim body sprawled artlessly yet beautifully across the bedspread--well, it did something to me.  
  
He had apparently abandoned the attempt to unbutton his shirt and coat a little more than half-way through the job, leaving his taut, flat belly and over half of his chest exposed to view including a café-au-lait nipple that begged to be sucked.  
  
"Gah!" I hurried into the bathroom and dealt with my arousal. "Gah,!" I came hard and fast. Just the thought of sucking on his nipple was enough to send me into sexual overdrive. Not to mention that mouth. The lower lip was pure temptation. "Stop thinking about it! He's my partner!"  
  
I took a shower and eventually put the water on cold, which shriveled my prick and allowed me to fall asleep, but I was troubled by dreams.  
  
I dreamed I was strolling in a park on a moon-filled night, wind whispering, the smell of damp sagebrush. I hear a rush of feet, whispers, harsh laughter, the hard smack of fists on flesh, guttural voices-"Fuck him, fuck him good. Kick that cocksocker." I see them now caught by the moonlight in a dance of violence. Mazarov with his Mohawk straddles a back and rams away with a feral expression. He comes like a race horse, and pulls out, his cock shining slick. He gives me a knowing look, licks his lips, "Mount up, Hornfreak, it's your turn."  
  
I don't want to, but I want him. So I fall on that pale bare skin with a savage sexual grunt and thread the hot tight opening with my prick. My breath comes in grunts and gasps as I plunge it in deeper and deeper and harder and faster, while the body beneath me moans and sobs, spine rigid with pain. I hear a voice shouting, "Stop, stop, it hurts, it hurts," and I know it's Chapel's voice, but still I don't stop,  
  
I hate myself for what I'm doing so I start to cry, and I'm crying hard, but still I keep thrusting and thrusting and thrusting until I come inside him, and I wake up sobbing with my heart pounding and my sheets wet with hot sperm and tears.  
  
It took me a minute to calm myself. I turned on the lamp by my bed and was startled to see Chapel looking at me.  
  
"That was some dream," he said. "Are you okay?" He was sitting at a table by the open window wearing a T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants and smoking a cigarette.  
  
"More of a nightmare really."  
  
"Care to confess? You'll feel better."  
  
"It was sexual," I said.  
  
"I gathered that," said Chapel dryly.  
  
"You remember that night?" I didn't have to tell him what night. He knew.  
  
"All of it, down to the most sickening details."  
  
"I dreamed I was fucking you with Mazarov's gang."  
  
"Oh," he said and looked away and lit another cigarette although there was already one burning in the ashtray.  
  
We sat in silence for a while.  
  
"You didn't fuck me, Midvalley."  
  
"But I wanted to."  
  
There's no harm done. It was only a dream. And from the way you were crying, it didn't look like you were happy about it."  
  
He took another drag of his cigarette and put his feet up on the windowsill, exhaled and said, "You might think it's funny, Midvalley, because we weren't all that close at the school, but for all these years, I have thought of you as a friend. That was the worst night of my life, still I have always held on to the one good memory of that night--the way you treated me, Midvalley. In my whole life, no one has ever been as kind to me. To this day, I remember you telling me that I shouldn't let what they did to me affect me, that if I did it was like they had won. But the truth is, it has affected me.  
  
Most people I see seem to associate sex with pleasure but I associate it with pain. It's funny, I actually tried to do it a couple of times with prostitutes. I had to get drunk to work up the courage just to try, but when it came right down to it, my body just shut down and I couldn't."  
  
"So what are you going to do about it?"  
  
"I don't know. I'm sick of being celibate. I have to say that I even had it in the back of my mind that maybe you could give me some pointers."  
  
"Just say the word, Chapel. You'd have a ball."  
  
"It sounds really great, Midvalley." He sounded a little scared and tentative.  
  
"It is," I assured him. "Have you ever had a blow job?" I asked with a cocky grin.  
  
He laughed, but the laughter seemed a little forced. I stood up and moved towards him, but by the time I reached him, his body language was all wrong. I touched his thigh and he flinched, his body rigid.  
  
"Don't--don't touch me," he said urgently. I withdrew my hand. He looked scared, miserable and frustrated.  
  
"It's okay, Chapel," I said calmly as my nascent erection wilted.  
  
"I can't. I can't do it. I just can't," he said in a soft, almost desperate voice.  
  
"Don't worry about it. It's okay. What was I thinking anyway? You've had such a long day. Get some sleep. I'm going back to bed." I turned out the light and lay on my back with my hands folded under my head, waiting for my eyes to accustom to the darkness.  
  
I saw a match flare into life and heard Chapel inhaling again. And then he exhaled. I could see better now and I watched him as he smoked staring out the window for minutes at a time as if he were searching for an answer. He stubbed out the cigarette, then lit another one, inhaling a third of it, then exhaling with a heavy sigh. He bent over in his chair, his left elbow braced on his knee, his down-turned head propped by his left hand. His right hand held the cigarette. From the glowing tip, smoke floated into lazy arabesques in the moonlight that flowed through the window.  
  
"God, I hate myself, "he whispered.  
  
But, why, Chapel, I thought to myself. I studied him as he sat and watched him straighten in his chair, extinguish the cigarette and then light another. He breathed in another lung-full, exhaled and then leaned back his head and closed his eyes. Moonlight revealed silver tears sliding from his eyelids down the high planes of his cheekbones.  
  
Oh, Chapel, I thought with a rush of sympathy. I felt the sting of tears in my own eyes and oddly, a pang in my heart. He put out his cigarette, walked the few steps to his bed and slumped down on the edge of it with silent tears still sliding down his face. He looked so defeated, I couldn't bear to see him like that. I stood up, closed the gap between beds in a moment , sat down beside him and offered him my shoulder. To my surprise, he reached out to me and clung gently as if he'd found a home, and just as gently I drew my arms around him and there I let him rest. In a few minutes I felt him trembling.  
  
"What's wrong, Chapel?" I released him, then I realized he was laughing softly.  
  
"Nothing's wrong. I was just wondering how long I am destined to remain an asexual freak." He seemed clearly amused by the idea.  
  
"It will happen when the time is right." I pulled him into a headlock and gave him a noogie. He just laughed.  
  
I yawned and got up. "I am going to bed."  
  
Chapel crawled under his covers. "Thanks, Midvalley," he mumbled and he was asleep before my head hit the pillow.  
  
Sleep eluded me. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. I had so much to think about.  
  
Tonight I had wanted him in the worst way, and being perfectly frank with myself, I could probably have forced him into it, shamed him into it. I have lost count of the number of people I have lied or manipulated into bed, simply because they were an interesting type and I wanted to have sex with them.  
  
But with Chapel, for whatever reason, things were different. He plucked emotional chords in my heart and reawakened feelings I confess I thought were dead-affection, compassion, sympathy, caring.love? God, no, not love, Midvalley, I told myself sternly--anything but love.  
  
And yet, I couldn't help smiling when I thought of it, a smile that spread even to my heart. With that warm comfortable feeling, I drifted into dreamless sleep.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	4. The Mission

I don't own Trigun and I am not making any money with this fan fiction.  
  
The Mission  
  
Next morning I stumbled into the bathroom to take a leak around 7 and Chapel's bed was made and he was nowhere to be seen. Not much of a sleeper, I thought, and went back to bed.  
  
I got up around 11-musician's hours--showered and dressed, then made my way downstairs. The bar was still serving breakfast, so I ordered an omelet and coffee with cream. While I was eating, Chapel strode in through the bat wing doors with his cross on his shoulder. He looked around the room, caught my eye, smiled and walked over to sit with me.  
  
"Hope you weren't worried. I thought you'd sleep in."  
  
"Don't you ever sleep?"  
  
"I get my share."  
  
As I took my last bite of eggs, I reflected inwardly on my last moments with him the night before. I was relieved to find this morning that I seemed to be able to be around him without experiencing a sexual spazz-out every 5 minutes. That was a plus since we had a mission to carry out today.  
  
A matronly waitress came up to the table with a carafe of black coffee and a cup. She smiled at him and said, "Thank you so much for what you did. Here's your coffee, Mr. Wolfwood."  
  
He smiled, "It was my pleasure. If there's anything else I can do for your grandson, just let me know. And thanks for keeping me in black coffee. You make it good." She moved off smiling.  
  
"What's that all about?  
  
"My priestly duties. Just mixing a little business with business. I'm ready for the mission. We're going to get it in gear today, right."  
  
"We'd better take this discussion upstairs where we'll have more privacy."  
  
When we got to the room, Chapel leaned his cross against the wall by the table. We sat down and I proceeded to brief him.  
  
"The manager of the energy plant in this town, name of Burns, has had a long-standing contract with Master Knives. Master Knives uses some of the energy for experimental scientific research and the research is funded by the plant customers who are billed for their usage. Master Knives has been very particular about the importance of not exhausting the plant by excessive demands on its resources. The manager of the plant has been compensated generously, but for the past six months has apparently unilaterally decided that he is not being paid enough, so he has been working the plant harder, stepping up the billings. But he has been concealing the extra billings and siphoning off the money for his own use and lying about it. And in only six months, he has brought the plant close to exhaustion."  
  
"Master Knives is angry enough about the greed, but it is the abuse of the plant that has brought a sentence of death to Mr. Burns. Our job is to acquire the funds he stole, install the new manager who has already been selected, by the way, and kill Mr. Burns in a splashy public way that will send the message that Knives Millions is dead serious in his requirements. You step over the line-you die."  
  
"Let's do it. I'm ready. Have we got an address?"  
  
"God," I had to laugh. "You're in a big hurry. You thought up a plan that fast?"  
  
"Didn't you ever read Dominique the Cyclops' Quick and Dirty Guide to Mission Planning? It's famous at the academy. She handed it in on a final exam. Aced it."  
  
"When faced with an uncooperative target-1. Threaten to shoot him in the balls. 2. Then shoot him in the balls. 3. Then threaten to shoot him in the head. That is just so Dominique-especially the part about shooting them in the balls."  
  
"I heard someone else had the idea first. A few years back, I asked her what happened to Mazarov and his gang. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you, Chapel?"  
  
"Only that Dominique got her inspiration for that answer by reading a certain issue of Eagle magazine." He smiled innocently and looked guilty as sin. " I think it's a pretty good plan."  
  
"Only one little problem, Chapel. He's got a lot of hired guns at his mansion."  
  
"Well, if the hired guns are at the mansion, it stands to reason that that's where the money is. So all we need is a little firepower."  
  
"By, the way, Chapel, did you bring any equipment along or do we need to get you outfitted?"  
  
Chapel smiled, reached out and flicked a buckle on the canvas-covered cross beside him and watched with satisfaction as my eyes widened when the inside of the cross was revealed and eight automatic pistols in a caddy, dropped down with a thunk, fully loaded and ready for action.  
  
"That's a real nice set-up, but still I think we might need something a little more high caliber."  
  
The priest stood up with a broad smile on his face now, shoved the automatics back inside and with a graceful move, hoisted the cross as if it were a toy, and I could see that the long piece of the cross housed a 50- caliber machine gun.  
  
"If the 50-cal isn't up to the job, I can always," and he flipped the cross again smoothly, "arm the rocket launcher."  
  
"What? No shotgun?" I mocked.  
  
He demonstrated the pump action.  
  
"Holy shit" I laughed, "Chapel, you know you've got yourself one hell of a weapon there. What are we waiting for?"  
  
"A real plan?"  
  
"Yeah, there is that.  
  
"Could be booby traps."  
  
"Big scary dogs."  
  
"We'd better scope it out first then."  
  
We divided up the labor. I was going to investigate the energy plant and check bank records and safe deposit boxes. In theory that's all confidential, but the letter I carry from Knives Millions has earned me the cooperation of dozens and dozens of clerks and officials. Chapel was going to visit some taverns and cafes, then, set up to hear confessions near the mansion and see if he could pick up any information about Burns' movements. Then we would rendezvous, pool information and fine-tune the plan.  
  
I found out that the money wasn't in the bank, so our original thought that the money was at the house was likely correct. Burns was not expected at the plant. When Chapel returned, he added the information that Burns would be hosting a dinner party for some of the wealthiest citizens in the town that evening. Our eyes met at this piece of information. An opportunity to reinforce Knive's message.  
  
When we arrived at Burn's home, I pulled Silvia out of her case and rang the doorbell. A butler answered, took one look at me and sniffed condescendingly, "The musicians use the back door entrance," and he pointed to a path that led around the house. He looked at the priest and his cross with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"I'm with the band," said Chapel, peering over his sunglasses.  
  
That line struck me so funny that I started to giggle when we were far enough away from the front door that the butler couldn't hear it. Chapel gave me a dirty look which only made me laugh harder. "I'm with the band," I mocked him. " What band? What instrument do you play? Oh, I play the cross." I bent over double from laughter. Then Chapel got infected. He started out with a chuckle, worked his way through snorts and guffaws and finally ended up wheezing until tears were running down his cheeks. It took a while for us to calm ourselves sufficiently . Chapel gave me another dirty look which was almost enough to set me off again. I punched his arm. "Knock it off. This is serious business," I said with a barely contained giggle.  
  
"Yeah, we could get killed in there," he chortled, and the look on his face was so comical that we spent another 2 minutes convulsed in laughter.  
  
I finally saw some body guards gathering at the windows, probably wondering about the two nut jobs laughing their asses off in the side garden. I assumed that when they saw the sax I carried they would think it was just another crazy musician whacked out on happy weed.  
  
And then we got serious. When we reached the back door, Silvia blew it open with a skirling cacophony of shrieks, and when we entered the kitchen I saw the five guards on the floor, their bodies jerking spasmodically while blood ran from their noses.  
  
Chapel gave me a dead-pan look, flipped his cross into machine gun mode and then burst through the next door with the 50-cal blazing. I followed him through the door, stepping over the bodies of wounded and dying. We reached the kitchen after repulsing some heavy return fire, and then we pushed through a swinging door and finally stood face-to-face with Burns. He seemed uncomfortable to see us in his sumptuous dining room. The table was laden with fine wines and delicacies and guests in elegant evening wear seated around it. Burns started to slip a hand into his tuxedo, but Chapel grabbed him by the wrist and twisted the automatic from his grasp.  
  
In front of all those people, I asked Burns to return the money he stole from Knives Millions. He refused.  
  
The upshot of all the planning Chapel and I had done came down to this. When Burns refused to reveal the location of the money, I threatened to shoot him in the balls. When he didn't talk, Chapel shot him in the balls. Then, I threatened to shoot him in the head. He gave us the location and the combination right away. Then Chapel shot him in the head.  
  
Blood and bone and brains splattered the tuxedos and evening gowns and faces of the wealthy guests at Burns' table up to ten feet away.  
  
Master Knives had said, "Send them a message."  
  
I think they got it.  
  
  
  
  
  
I was a little shocked by the coolness that Chapel displayed when he killed Burns and I mentioned it to him later that night.  
  
"You didn't turn a hair when you shot him. I was a little surprised. It still takes me some effort to work myself up to it and I've been at this longer than you. I felt like I was the new guy and you were the veteran."  
  
"It wasn't hard. That guy needed killing. Remember the waitress in the saloon this morning?"  
  
"Agatha?"  
  
"Agnes. She confided in me that she suspected her grandson had been sold into a sex ring. She gave me a lead and I found the child and got him and the others out, too. Problem is, so many of them have no place else to go to." He seemed troubled by this thought.  
  
"But, that was a good morning's work, right?"  
  
"And it's why I didn't have any trouble killing Burns. I found out he owned that business. You ask me, he got off way too easy."  
  
"So, is this something you do often? Rescuing kids in trouble?"  
  
"I try to help out now and then-like somebody helped me once, Midvalley."  
  
"I'm going to bed, I'm beat. Are you ever going to get some sleep, Chapel?"  
  
"Maybe later. I've got some running around I have to do just now. It really can't wait until tomorrow and-when do we get paid?"  
  
"You should be able to draw funds tomorrow."  
  
"Good," he said and then I heard his footsteps hurrying down the staircase.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	5. The Bruisy Woozy Blues

I don't own Trigun. I am not making any money with my fan fiction.  
  
The Bruisy Woozy Blues  
  
Chapel and I clicked as a team. Knives was reportedly very pleased with our handling of the Burns execution and if the generous bonus I received after the fact was any indication, he was, but it wasn't as if Chapel and I spent all our time running around the countryside shooting people in the head.  
  
One of my more naive bed partners once asked me if it wasn't thrilling exercising the power over life and death. She didn't know that 99% of my job consisted of collecting money for Knives. Much as Knives hates humans, he realizes that it's hard for them to pay up when they're dead. So most of the time I was simply intimidating, not killing.  
  
The thrilling part about killing, I have found, is surviving when the person you've been sent to kill tries to kill you back. For me, that's the bottom line. When I survive a mission, I'm pretty much thrilled.  
  
News of our exploit got some publicity in a gossip sheet and actually made our job incredibly easy. Sax player plus priest with machine gun cross equals you with your brains splattered on the wall. "Which would you rather do, hang on to the money you stole or have your head shot off." Talk about a no-brainer.  
  
We became almost constant companions. Our personalities complemented each other. Chapel was at his best in action flowing in combat with uncanny intuition, the way I improvise with Silvia on a song . On a mission, I was less spontaneous and needed more structure and planning ,but that worked out well for both of us. He benefited from my forethought and I from his ability to compensate for the unexpected.  
  
I enjoyed my downtime with Chapel. I would have to say that it was the first time in years that I had enjoyed someone else's company without attaching a sexual agenda to it. Well, that's not completely true. At some level, I definitely still wanted him, but told myself I was willing to wait until he was ready. I was definitely not going to force any sexual issue with him, a sure way to lose him as a friend I was convinced. And I sincerely valued his friendship. He had a store of knowledge and was an amusing companion. He was fun to drink with. He enjoyed my company as well, but many evenings in whatever bar I was playing in he was content just to smoke in a dark quiet corner and listen to me jam with the band of the night.  
  
Not that we were always in each others faces. Every so often, Chapel would shrug his good-byes and tell me, "I've got to go. Priestly duties call. I'll be back in a few days."  
  
A couple of months went by like this. One night at a club I was playing I got propositioned by a band roadie. He was really nicely put together, great smile and personality, the kind I would never have refused in the past, and yet, I turned him down. I suddenly realized that I hadn't shagged any sax groupies since, well since Chapel first walked through those batwing doors. Midvalley the Hornfreak, aka the Sultan of Sax, was not getting any action-and I didn't care. I found that I would just as soon stay cooped up in a hotel room meditating on the sax while Chapel smoked and cleaned his guns. It was weird somehow, definitely unusual for me, but I was content, for the time being, just to be around him.  
  
As it turned out, we carried out most of our missions in many of the same cities, mostly the big ones, so I kept running into a lot of the same musicians. When they saw Chapel and me together, never the one without the other, they figured something was up.  
  
I ran into my old friend, Lenny, the drummer, who was familiar with my history. Hell, we'd even screwed each others brains out on a week-long tour some 5 or 6 years back. He saw me and he saw Chapel and gave me a speculative look. Then he leered, "So, Hornfreak, who's the momma and who's the poppa?"  
  
"Nothing's going on."  
  
"I believe you, Sax God," he said. Clearly he didn't.  
  
"Nothing happened. There is nothing going on."  
  
"Uh, huh," he said plainly unconvinced.  
  
"I'm gonna kill you, Lenny."  
  
"Uh-huh," he said in the same skeptical tone.  
  
Everyone assumed we were banging each other. The only story they wouldn't have believed is that we weren't. And oddly enough it was Chapel who provided most of the grist for the gossip mill. He is by nature a demonstrative person and when my tendency to become sexually aroused around him had damped down, I found that he began to touch me more. He'd rest a hand on my elbow or shoulder and occasionally drape an arm round my neck or waist in casual friendship. These actions tugged at my heart rather than my prick and with my sensations undulled for a change by a succession of nearly nightly sexual partners, I was able to appreciate them despite their subtlety. But the affection was noticed.  
  
And of course, business went on as usual. I say as usual, but even in the most well-oiled routine, there comes a day when first thing, you drop your soap in the shower and bang your head on the spigot as you bend to pick it up. A little later, you spill your coffee in your lap in a moment of carelessness. After you change your clothes, you're feeling a little wary, waiting for the last piece of bad luck that will end the streak, that moment during the day when you zig when you should have zagged. That moment came for me during one of our bloodier missions. One minute, I was blowing on Silvia's reed, generating one hell of a powerful shock wave, the next moment, I don't remember at all.  
  
Then there are bits and pieces, shreds of memory I recall. A sensation of bright pain somewhere in my body. The sound of my shirt ripping. Chapel's voice, "Fuck, Midvalley." Then memory fades again. When I woke up again, it was to see Chapel looking at me with a worried expression.  
  
"What's wrong, Chapel. Did we screw up the mission so bad that Knives wants us dead?"  
  
Chapel heaved a sigh of relief. "You're talking," he said, "and in complete sentences."  
  
He seemed really pleased about that.  
  
I looked around and took in that I was lying in a hospital bed.  
  
"What happened with the mission? Don't tell me I fucked it up for us." Now I was the one who was worrying.  
  
"Ease your mind, Midvalley. We got the job done. How do you feel?"  
  
"Like shit. What happened?"  
  
"Ricochet sliced your forehead and knocked you out. The doctor said you had a concussion. You were out for quite a while. If that bullet had gone a hair deeper, you'd be dead. Took 47 stitches to get it closed. You lost a lot of blood before I could get you here. You also took a bullet in the arm, but it didn't go deep."  
  
"47 stitches. What does that look like?"  
  
"Like shit," Chapel admitted.  
  
A doctor bustled into the room. He asked me some questions, examined my reflexes and the pupils in my eyes.  
  
"This is the guy that sewed you up," said Chapel.  
  
"Mr. Midvalley," he said briskly, " You had a concussion. The scan we ran on you shows no brain damage, but a concussion can give you some fairly annoying symptoms. You can expect headaches. If they get very intense, come back and see us. The dressing on your arm will need changing from time to time. The nurse has instructed Mr. Wolfwood on how to care for it. So, how do you feel?"  
  
"To tell you the truth, I've had hangovers that felt worse."  
  
"You lost a fair amount of blood. I considered a transfusion, but unfortunately, we have a shortage of your blood type, so you need to take it slow and easy for awhile. So don't push your body too hard or your symptoms may get worse."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"The nurse will arrange your discharge papers, then."  
  
Chapel had brought me a change of clothes from the hotel. I was half-way through dressing when I suddenly felt dizzy and had to sit down. A few minutes later Chapel looked in on me. He looked worried again.  
  
"God, you look white, Midvalley. Are you all right?"  
  
"Just a little dizzy."  
  
"Maybe you should stay."  
  
"I'll be all right."  
  
"I'm going to call a taxi. You shouldn't walk and I don't want you falling off my motorcycle."  
  
I got up and pulled on my shirt and jacket. My left arm was sore but nothing unbearable. I stepped into the bathroom to get a glass of water, glanced in the mirror and yelled, "Shit!"  
  
Chapel barged in on the run, "Oh, you saw."  
  
My forehead was bandaged neatly, but below, around my eyes and nose, my face was a mass of bruises, purple, blue, green and yellow.  
  
"God!" I could just imagine myself getting on stage to play with a face like that. "Shit!"  
  
"Don't worry, Midvalley. The bruises should clear up in a couple of weeks, a month at most. Here take my sunglasses."  
  
"A month! Shit!"  
  
When I came out of the bathroom, my eyes winced from the bright sunshine streaming through the window. "Give me the glasses. The glare is killing me."  
  
He took the taxi back to the hotel with me and clucked over me like a mother hen. It was irritating. He was telling me for the tenth time to take it slow and easy up the stairs, when I suddenly couldn't take it anymore and whirled around to tell him to shut the fuck up, but then the world tipped sideways and suddenly I was glad he was there. I sagged against him and he held me up.  
  
"Take it easy, partner. I've got you," he said.  
  
I was lying on my bed almost before I knew it and Chapel was draping a light blanket over me. Get some rest, Midvalley ."  
  
He didn't have to tell me twice.  
  
I woke up with a headache and a burning sensation in my left arm. Chapel was hovering.  
  
"Can I get you anything to eat, coffee, pain relievers?"  
  
"Just leave me alone."  
  
"I'll be back," he said.  
  
"I'll be holding my breath, " I said sarcastically.  
  
He was back in ten minutes. He brought a glass of water from the bathroom, and said, " I got some pain relievers. I want you to take these."  
  
I didn't really want to. But I flounced up in the bed, grabbed the pills from his hand and swallowed them down and thrust the glass back at him.  
  
"Are you happy? Now, leave me alone!"  
  
"Sorry, I can't. I need to clean the wound on your arm."  
  
"Oh, Jesus, Fuck!"  
  
"God, you're in a foul mood."  
  
"What was your first clue?"  
  
"Just take your shirt off."  
  
I rolled my eyes, and was rewarded with a sharp twinge of pain.  
  
"Ah, fuck," I snarled. I had pulled off my jacket and was working on my shirt. Chapel was in the bathroom filling a pan with warm water. When he came out, I still had my shirt half-way on.  
  
"It's stuck," I said disgusted. Blood had leaked through the gauze bandage and stuck to the sleeve of my pink shirt. Chapel peeled the shirt away. He was gentle as he touched me and removed the bloody bandage, and cleaned the wound. I winced when he applied the antiseptic.  
  
"Sorry," he said. Then he began to re-wrap the wound. "I never noticed before how white your skin is."  
  
"Musician's keep vampire's hours. We get a little pale. Not every one can be tan like you, you know."  
  
"I didn't mean," he broke off, "that." He sighed. My eyes slid shut while he worked on me. His hands slid around my arm as he wrapped the wound. And his touch was so erotic to me that I came in my pants. I moaned.  
  
"Feeling any better, Midvalley?"  
  
I grunted. The soft touch of his hands on my skin was still turning me on. I wanted to be in him, I wanted him in me but my face was like a fright mask. How could I possibly do the things I wanted with him when I was in such wretched shape. I ached for him, but I felt strange, like crying and sleeping at the same time. This wasn't like me. I felt weird.  
  
"Can I get you anything, Midvalley."  
  
"Silvia."  
  
He brought me the sax case and said, " I left a sandwich and some soup on the table. Try to eat something. I'll be back later this afternoon."  
  
I took Silvia out of her case and slid my hands over her curves, reverently placed my lips on the mouthpiece and started to play the first few bars of "Stranger than Fiction." A sensation of pressure built up in my head, so painfully intense I had to quit.  
  
I went to the table, took a few bites of the sandwich, a few spoons of soup. I was at loose ends. I went into the bathroom and looked at my face in the mirror. The colors of my bruises had become even more garish. I took off the bandage over the stitches., saw a scar that looked like a 2 inch wide zipper smack dab in the middle of my forehead.  
  
"Real sexy, " I said to myself. "Some leather freak is just going to love that. Shit!"  
  
I sat down on my bed, tried to remember what Chapel's hands had felt on my body that morning and started to jerk myself off, but my arm hurt. I got distracted and lost interest and ended up just sitting there with my cock in my hand staring at the wall for the longest time until I felt cold and put it back in my pants. Then I rolled over and went to sleep.  
  
When I woke up, the room was dark. I felt the urge to empty my bladder, so I got up and went to the bathroom. When I came out, before I turned the light off, I could see Chapel sitting at the table smoking. I went back to the bed and lay down on it. I heard him stubbing out his cigarette and he came and sat by me on the edge of my bed.  
  
"What do you want," I asked him.  
  
"I need to know how you're feeling."  
  
"Not good. I just need to sleep."  
  
I slept.  
  
Chapel was quiet next morning. He brought me up breakfast from the restaurant and changed the bandage on my arm. I was completely distracted myself. I can't remember a time when I had been so spaced out. I couldn't focus my thoughts. I don't think I was even aware that he was changing my bandage until he finished the final taping. I heard his voice droning but I have no idea what he said.  
  
I don't know what he brought for breakfast or if I ate it. I sat at the table drifting in and out of wakefulness. I couldn't keep my eyes open. Finally I felt strong arms enfold me, lift me and lay me on my bed. I slept.  
  
I woke up in a strange mood, vaguely irritable. I decided to go out to a tavern, because my cabin fever was getting uncontrollable. I took a shower, shaved and dressed. I was looking for my shoes when I stubbed my toe on the metal leg of the bed. Something like that rarely phases me, but now I was angry, cursing the cock-sucking, mother-fucking goddamn, piece of shit. I had a feeling of white hot pain between my eyes. Chapel chose that moment to come back from wherever he had been., and he was all over me, like flies on honey. His arm round my waist, his touch on my face, his hand on my back, settling me, hands on my thighs, all concerned. Are you all right? Are you feeling OK?" I was aroused but irritable.  
  
"Keep your hands to yourself, you pathetic tease," I said in a cold nasty tone.  
  
Chapel's face turned three shades of red.  
  
"God if I didn't think that was the concussion talking, I would fucking kill you."  
  
"It's not the concussion. It's the truth."  
  
"I never asked for your lust," he said.  
  
I pulled my left shoe on and tied it.  
  
"I'm not a priest. I didn't take a vow of chastity. I didn't sign on to become a semi-professional virgin like you"  
  
"Maybe you think I should be honored to find myself on the list of people you want to fuck, but your list is so long, Midvalley. Just because it's warm-blooded with legs and a hole doesn't mean you have to fuck it. Talk about pathetic." He was all contempt now.  
  
"That's it. That is the fucking limit!" I finished tying the other shoe.  
  
"Where are you going," he asked.  
  
"To see if I can get laid tonight."  
  
I shot to my feet and stormed to the door, but my vision went dark and I couldn't find the knob. I felt a prickly feeling on the back of my neck and heard a buzzing sound and Chapel's deep sigh as he caught me on the way down.  
  
"I've got you, partner."  
  
I woke up in the middle of the night and found myself looking for the glow of his cigarette tip. I sighed with relief when I saw it and fell back asleep.  
  
Next morning he brought me up coffee and scrambled eggs from the hotel restaurant. I sat at the table and ate while he drank his coffee and smoked.  
  
The silence between us was thick and uncomfortable, but I couldn't think of a damned thing to say.  
  
Chapel seemed more tense than usual. He went through three cigarettes by the time I finished the eggs. He stared out the window and didn't look at me when he finally spoke.  
  
"Headache better today?"  
  
"It's gone."  
  
"Your arm. I need to check it."  
  
"Fine."  
  
I peeled off the pajama top and registered that he must have undressed me last night. Pajama bottoms too. He must have gotten an eyeful I considered. I don't wear shorts.  
  
He was careful handling me. The wound had started to scab over and the bandage was stuck to it. He soaked it loose with warm water, patted it dry and applied more antiseptic.  
  
"The inflammation is gone."  
  
He began to re-bandage it. I noticed that his hands were trembling.  
  
"Better cut down on the coffee and cigarettes. You're a basket case."  
  
He was trying to wrap the wound as fast as he could, probably because he couldn't stand touching me or my pale white skin. I wasn't remotely aroused. I was way too pissed at him.  
  
"Shit," he said as he had to unravel where he'd left a crease, "Uh, Midvalley, about last night," he began.  
  
I cut him off. "What's said is said. Can't be unsaid."  
  
He silently finished taping the arm. I flexed it. It felt a lot better. "Thanks," I said.  
  
Chapel emptied the basin and sat lit another cigarette. He took a drag, exhaled and said, "I wired Legato about your injury. I told him you'd be out of commission for another couple of weeks. He gave me an assignment out by Mei City. I should be back in a week-two weeks tops. I'm short of funds again."  
  
"We just got paid!"  
  
"I didn't know you'd get hurt. I settled the hospital bill and I had some other debts."  
  
"The office is supposed to reimburse us for medical expenses."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You need some traveling money?"  
  
"I'll get by." He stubbed out the butt , hoisted his cross and his duffle sack then lightly slid his hand across my upper back as he said, "Good- bye." Before I knew it I heard the door closing and then the sound of his feet hurrying down the stairs.  
  
I wondered at how the slightest of his touches had the power to brand me. I looked down at my tented crotch and sighed, " I thought we were over that."  
  
I had mixed feelings now that he was gone, but decided it was healthier to focus on the feeling of relief. I put some tunes on my portable player and decided to take a long relaxing bath . Some of the pain soaked out of my body as I lay there and I thought about Chapel.  
  
He had been as nervous as I had ever seen him. My thoughts went back to the quarrel and I brooded about what he said to me. "Never asked for your lust" "Fuck anything with legs and a hole" , "Talk about pathetic." He had been pretty offensive. Eventually I got out of the tub and toweled off. I started to feel really angry with him. I tied the towel around my waist and stood at the mirror, slicked my wet hair back with a comb and looked at the wreckage of my face. The bruises were fading. The main color scheme now was chartreuse swirled with yellow and lavender. The effect on a stained-glass window would have been charming, but on my pale skin it was anything but. The stitches across my forehead were a bright seam of scarlet dotted above and below by black sutures.  
  
I looked at my skin. I always hated the way the blue veins made it look so mottled. Trust Chapel to fasten on the feature I felt most insecure about and insult it. "Your skin is so white, Midvalley." His was like honey.  
  
I started to shave and thought about what he'd said. "I never asked for your lust." How could he think it was just lust. I had just spent the last two months as celibate as he was. What did he expect from me? And the part about fucking anything with two legs and a hole? "Hah!" I laughed out loud, "Well, at least I can, Chapel. At least I can!" I announced triumphantly.  
  
"And you can't," I suddenly remembered. He had confided the fact that he was impotent to me and I threw it in his face and called him pathetic. "Semi-professional virgin" was a really low blow when I remembered what had happened to him as a child. Tears of shame came to my eyes when I realized how my words must have hurt him. All he had done was to care for me. And that was how I repaid him. He had put me to bed, brought me breakfast, asked about my headache, and cleaned my wound. I was an ass-hole.  
  
I'm an asshole and I'm driving him away. But I'm going crazy being cooped up with no outlet. I looked outside. The suns were blazing. If I went out in that much sun, I knew I'd get a splitting headache. I saw Silvia sitting in the easy chair where I'd left her. If only I could play without pain. I sat in the chair with the towel wrapped round my waist, Silvia in my lap and I gently took the reed in my mouth and coaxed out a pure sweet note and followed it with another and another and another.  
  
I played out my shame, my tears, the friendship, the quarrel, my yearning. I lost myself in communion with Silvia, and when I had poured myself out, I set her down gently with a sigh of contentment.  
  
I heard scattered applause in the plaza outside the hotel and walked over to the window to see what had caused the commotion. When I looked out the window, I saw Lenny leading some shopgirls on their lunch break in applause. When they saw me at the window, they applauded louder, whether for my music or me in my towel, I couldn't say. Lenny hand-signaled that he was coming up.  
  
In a couple of minutes he breezed through the door, and I waited for the barrage of comments that was so typically Lenny.  
  
"God , you look like shit. Did you and the girlfriend have a fight? Looks like she plays rough."  
  
"It was an accident, Lenny."  
  
"So they all say. Say, are you hot and horny and in the mood? I just happen to be available at the moment."  
  
"You should have been here half an hour ago. Too bad I played it all out of my system."  
  
"Guess it's just as well. You don't look like you could handle any more rough stuff."  
  
"That's a fact, but just why are you here?"  
  
"I heard you were in town, but I never saw you at any of the clubs. If I hadn't lucked out and been outside when you started playing, I would never have found you. And may I say, that song, it might be the best thing you ever did."  
  
"Glad you liked it, but I was just messing around. I haven't been able to play for a few days and I was feeling deprived."  
  
"Can't you remember any of it?"  
  
"It was all improv, Len."  
  
"Well, you need to get out. It's obvious to me. So, I have a great job offer for you, playing with me in the fabulous lounge of the Scum Bag Inn, also known as the Come Back Inn by those who don't know it as well as I do. It may be the Scum Bag, but the guitarist is hot, a total professional. The bass player has great potential, but he's in a rut and needs a little inspiration so he can cut loose with the juice. I know a keyboard player who is dying to work with you even if it means working without pay, and her playing is fantastic."  
  
"I look like shit."  
  
"So brush your bangs over your forehead and wear dark glasses like your boyfriend does. By the way, where is he? Did you two have a lover's spat?"  
  
"Business trip. He'll be back in two weeks."  
  
"So, play with us, and you won't go stir crazy."  
  
"I'm supposed to take it easy."  
  
"Well, no one is going to be holding a gun to your head, forcing you to blow your brains out. If you need a breather, take it. You know I'm easy."  
  
As he talked, I began to realize just how much I had missed making music with a band and suddenly I knew that the fastest way for me to get back to feeling like myself was to immerse myself in my music.  
  
"Pick you up at 7 tonight?" he asked.  
  
I looked hesitant.  
  
"Hey, I know that look. You're afraid I'll kidnap you and force you to go clubbing all night. You're going to have to take a taxi back anyhow. I have "plans" for later. Remember the roadie who had the hots for you? He's with me now. We were so impressed by what you and Chapel have going that we've practically tied the knot. So let me pick you up at 7. The band needs a little jam time together before the set starts so we don't have to stink it up for a half-hour while we're trying to figure each other out.  
  
I cringed at the reminder of just how bad good musicians can sound together.  
  
"When you're right, you're right, Lenny. Seven it is."  
  
I had a great time that night. The music was good and the next two weeks went by in a blur, with daily gigs and rehearsals.  
  
The guitarist blew my mind with his fresh ideas. If the bassist had been in a rut, I saw no sign of it. In this group, he was positively inspired. The keyboard player was a matronly woman with her hair dyed bright red. She wore a red sequinned dress to match it and she was just dynamite. Stride, jazz, blues, honky tonk, boogie woogie, cat house-she could play it all. I would have paid to work with her.  
  
Then there was Lenny, the man who drove the rhythm, kept it all together. Loose, tight, low-down or up-tempo, he gave the piece of music what ever it needed so it could sing. He never stepped on another artist's solo break by playing too loud. For him, music came first and egos second. He was a prince of a musician.  
  
I hardly noticed my bruises anymore. One day I looked in the mirror and they were just gone. The sutures on my forehead dissolved and the red seam faded to white and blended in with the other lines on my forehead. Even with my bangs brushed back to the sides of my head, the way I usually do, Dave the Roadie pronounced my scar to be "Cool". And sure enough, I started to get offers again. But, I have to say that my standards must have gone up. Outside of Chapel, the only other two people I would have considered fucking were Lenny and Dave the Roadie, and those two were so in each others pockets all the time, it didn't look like I would get laid anytime soon.  
  
I have to admit I was beginning to feel a little infected by the enthusiasm of the twosome. They always seemed to be slipping off or coming back from somewhere with flushed, happy faces. It reminded me of how much I missed the intimacy of sex, and I made up my mind that I would tell Chapel that if he wouldn't at least try to be with me the way I wanted, then I couldn't wait for him anymore.  
  
Chapel was due back on Friday. I hoped he'd come early, but he hadn't showed up by 7 and then I had to leave. I left him a note telling what club I was at and to please come because the music was going to be great and then the taxi came and I left.  
  
The driver arrived at the club at a quarter to 8, but when I walked in the door, the bass player was walking around like a zombie and Lenny was nowhere in sight.  
  
" Where's Lenny," I asked the piano player.  
  
"He's in the bathroom. Last time I saw him he was out here crying his eyes out. He and Dave had a lover's quarrel and we go on in 40 minutes. The men's room is not my territory. Please go in there and try to talk him up. You and I both know that we can't really make this thing work without him. Not the way we want to."  
  
I found Lenny slumped down on the floor. He was still crying his eyes out.  
  
"Hey, Lenny, what's the matter?"  
  
"I hit him. I hit him, and he'll never come back to me now."  
  
I handed Lenny my handkerchief.  
  
"But you guys have been all over each other like rabbits."  
  
"He said he doesn't need me anymore."  
  
"Well, we have a gig in thirty minutes. Maybe he doesn't need you but there are four other musicians who can't carry this off without you. Of course, if you absolutely can't, there's another drummer in the audience who could substitute for you. I'm pretty sure we could get Skip Walker to fill in."  
  
"Skip Walker is a pig," said Lenny mopping up his tears.  
  
"Yeah, but we need a drummer."  
  
"He'll ruin everything."  
  
"He's adequate, Lenny."  
  
"He sucks." Lenny's tears were gone. "He plays too loud. His rhythm is off. He steps on the solos. He's never had an original musical idea in his life, and he's bland.  
  
"Very bland," I seconded him. "Lenny, we really need you. Maybe by the time this gig is over, Dave will have gotten over whatever's eating him, and if not, why you're so hot, Lenny, I'll bet you could just about go home with anyone you set your heart on."  
  
"Let's get this show on the road, then. Fuck Dave the Roadie."  
  
The club was packed. The dance floor had been sacrificed to make extra room for tables for the music fans to sit at. There was barely enough room for the bar servers to get through with drinks. At 8:30, the club owner jumped up on stage and asked the audience to put their hands together for the "Midvalley Five". I looked back at Lenny and made a face. "What's that shit about?" I asked.  
  
"Had to call us something. Guess he likes the way you play."  
  
The five of us were primed to play and so loaded with energy, we were ready to bust loose.  
  
"Maybe we ought to pace ourselves," said Lenny. Then he said, "Hell, no!" and ripped into "Shoot 'em Up" as if he had no plans to play a second song, much less a second set. We all managed to catch up and keep up with him without sounding ragged. We were feeling just fine moving in an out and around the tune and the audience did a great job on the chorus-chiming in on time "Shoot 'em up, Shoot 'em up, Shoot 'em up. HUH!" When we finished, the audience erupted with whoops, whistles, shrieks, hollers, and sustained applause.  
  
"How the hell do we follow that up," I asked Lenny. "That was a show- stopper."  
  
"Yaha!" Lenny gave me a wild laugh. "Not this show! Time to earn your money, Hornfreak! 'Daredevil'" he announced.  
  
"Start it up, Midvalley, and turn us loose!"  
  
"Daredevil" starts out with me solo on Silvia, squeezing every last drop of juice I can find in my soul for a full solid minute. I spend the rest of the set, trying to fill in and recover while everyone else takes their breaks. Then with the breath I finally catch, God willing, I push my horn to the limit again, striving to hit an elusive high note, and we all finish together as I like to joke, lying dead on the floor. And that's what we did, except for that last part. It came off great. Even the band applauded for me on that one. But I was so wasted afterwards, I couldn't have put a sentence together if I tried and was content to look to Lenny to find out what we were playing next and play it the best I could. Finally the first set ended. I was ready for a break, but, by God, that audience loved us. There was so much applause, I almost felt guilty that I had to take a leak, but I did, so I left.  
  
The second set was a struggle for me. I sweated profusely and I could see that Lenny was concerned that I'd be able to finish. He babied me through the set and picked songs where the sax has less to do and ballads he knew I could play in my sleep. They were crowd pleasers though. With two more songs left to play, I started to feel more clear-headed, and I wondered if Chapel had made it. Then it dawned on me that we were sold out and I wondered if he'd tried to come but been turned away at the door. So when the set was over I gave the doorman Chapel's description and asked him to let him in if he showed up. He said he hadn't seen anyone who looked like that but would be glad to let him in if he came and by the way, he really admired my playing.  
  
I found my second wind in the third set, and Lenny smiled in relief when he heard me playing with power and confidence again. So he jumped the whole band through some pretty hoops and it was all so spontaneous and easy, I felt like I could play all night. By the time the set was over there was still no sign of Chapel.  
  
The last set was amazing. Lenny had it planned out that for the first five tunes, each musician would have a number that really showcased his talents. Lenny himself started out the set with a killer drum solo in a number called "Glory Be". The bass player, Toby, outdid himself on "G-String." Then Dixie, the red-head piano player charged into a medley that displayed her different styles and by the time she finished, she had the audience standing up for her. Sonny, the guitar man, went next and he played a blues number so packed with feeling , I saw more than a few teary-eyed faces in the audience. Then it was my turn, and I played "Silvia's Tune" and as usual got a great audience response. The last few songs were as hot and tight as good sex and then we played three encores before the audience would let us go.  
  
Then we all went out in the crowd and spent time with the fans, shaking hands, signing autographs, accepting their compliments. After half an hour of that, I withdrew as graciously as I could. I ordered a shot and a beer from the bar. It was on the house. I tossed back the bourbon and went out the back door of the club with the long neck dangling from my right hand. I needed to find a little peace and quiet.  
  
In part of my mind I was elated by just how good the music had been. Another part was disappointed that Chapel had not been around to share the moment. And now that I had emptied myself, I found myself feeling a little lonely, a little sad, even a little bit sorry for myself. I leaned up against a brick wall sipping my beer. Lenny had followed me out. He came up to me and pressed his body up against mine and I could feel his erection pulsing against my crotch. It felt good. He captured my lips and slipped me his tongue and I hadn't had sex for so long that I moaned with pleasure and the beer bottle slipped from my fingers. Soon we were rubbing hard up against each other. He started dry-humping me against the wall, his lips still on mine.  
  
Then I heard a humorous voice nearby, "Hey, I'm trying to smoke out here. Would you two please get a room?"  
  
By the light of the match he struck, he saw me and his eyes went wide.  
  
"Fuck!" said Chapel.  
  
"Nick!" I called after him, but he was gone.  
  
Lenny looked scared shitless. "Gotta go, man. I can see he's the jealous type," and he melted away.  
  
The night was unusually hot. I took a taxi back to the hotel. When I opened the door, he was sitting by the open window smoking. He was bare to the waist. He looked me in the eye and held the glance for some seconds, then we both looked away.  
  
I forced myself to look at him again. He looked sad. Untouchable. My eyes caressed the elegant lines of the body that I would never hold, the lower lip that I would never kiss, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of loss.  
  
I went to the closet, got out my travel bag, took my clothes off the hangers and began to fold and pack them.  
  
"What are you doing, Midvalley?" he asked me.  
  
"I'm packing." I went into the bathroom and collected my toothbrush and razor.  
  
"Where are you going," he asked me softly.  
  
"To get a room."  
  
"Are you upset with me?"  
  
I sighed. "I know you can't help being how you are. But I can't help being the way I am, either. Tonight I realized that. I have been hungry for you for so long, but I know now that I can never have you. It just hurts too much to be around you. I have to go."  
  
I picked up the bag and slung it over my shoulder, then picked up Silvia's case and headed for the door. He was there two steps ahead of me and stood with his back to it, facing me, looking into my eyes with an expression that I could in no way read. Then I saw. He looked scared.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
He whispered so softly I couldn't hear him. I was getting impatient and reached for the door knob.  
  
"Sorry I didn't hear that."  
  
His hand intercepted mine and I felt something in his touch.  
  
He said it softly but I heard him plainly this time.  
  
"I want you, too."  
  
I set down Silvia and my travel bag, pinned him to the door with my body and leaned in for the kiss I had been waiting for so long. He turned his lips away shyly and offered me his cheek.  
  
"No, no," I said. This time I held his face between my hands and moved in to claim his mouth, but his head twisted in my grasp and again my lips found his cheek.  
  
I stood back from him and sighed.  
  
"I can't play these games, Chapel." I picked up my bag and Silvia. "It hurts too much."  
  
I looked at him. He had tears in his eyes, and it pained me to see them there, but I had to go. I reached for the door knob again, but he caught my hand once more, held fast to it as if it were a lifeline and said in a voice that trembled, "Don't leave. It's not a game. I don't know what to do."  
  
I must have stood there dumbly for a full minute waiting for what he had said to sink in. Then, I set Silvia and the suitcase down gently. With my heart finally at ease, I pulled him, still weeping into a warm embrace and whispered in his ear, "I'll teach you."  
  
We sat in the chair together, my hands cushioned in the hair at the nape of his neck.  
  
"Close your eyes." I said. And he closed them. But they popped open almost fearfully.  
  
"Close your eyes." I said again and he closed them again.  
  
I leaned my face towards him and he started to turn his face away instinctively.  
  
"No, don't turn away from me. Give me your lips."  
  
He looked so beautiful to me and so vulnerable. I closed my eyes, moved my lips to his and fastened on that so sad lower lip with the tenderest friction. With utmost care I slid my lips along his upper lip, soft, sensitive, exploratory. Then went back to the swollen bud of his lower lip and caressed it with my lips over and over, embracing it and releasing , embracing and releasing with the softest suction.  
  
He moaned.  
  
"Now kiss me back," I said. And he explored my lips with the same blind tender friction and found my lower lip and fed there like a hungry child starved for affection.  
  
"More, Midvalley," he whispered in the moonlight, and I parted his lips with the moist tip of my tongue. His mouth opened softly in surprise and I lay the soft pillow of my tongue on his for the briefest moment, then withdrew it and he rewarded me with a deep and troubled sigh. His breath disturbed, I slid my tongue in again. He held it there and sucked it lightly. I answered with a sigh of my own.  
  
"More, Midvalley," he whispered again. I kissed away the scars of the child who had been savaged in the dark while he fed me with the gift of his tongue. The dance of lips and tongues went on. Our breathing deepened, and the tender friction grew more passionate, tongue probed tongue and lip bruised lip and sighs turned to moans.  
  
"More, Midvalley," moaned a lonely man, as lonely as myself. Heart hungry for so long, we fed on kisses until dawn.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	6. Professor Hornfreak

Professor Hornfreak  
  
I had a raging case of the blue balls and if I'd been with anyone other than Chapel, I would already have fucked us all the way into next week. But I was surprised and pleased that it was Chapel who upped the ante, groaning, "I think I'm ready for the next lesson." I could feel his erection through his sweat pants.  
  
Even as aroused as I was, I felt a need to be sensitive to him. I didn't want his second experience of sex to be almost as traumatic as his first, with me ramming away for my own pleasure, and him scared and confused and faking with me about how much he enjoyed it and in reality hating it. What I wanted was for him to have sex with me and truly enjoy it, for once to let go of some of the worry and tension that dogged him daily and abandon himself to the act. I just didn't know if he could, but I was going to use all my experience to improve his chances. Because he was so tense, I thought maybe if I gave him a massage, he would get used to my touch and be more accepting of the next deeper level of intimacy. I got up from the chair.  
  
"Where are you going, " he asked me.  
  
"Nowhere. I just thought of something I'd like to do to relax you a little."  
  
There wasn't enough room on the bed to give a good one, so I cleared a space on the floor and folded some blankets and set them down and went to my travel bag which was still by the door and pulled out a bottle of massage oil.  
  
Chapel got up and stood by the chair in an awkward posture. His erection was gone.  
  
"Are you going to fuck me now?" he asked. I knew he was trying to sound casual, but he missed it by an ile.  
  
I found his awkwardness loveable, but I didn't want him to think I was laughing at him, so I said, "No, I want to give you a massage. You can take your pants off and lie under the sheet."  
  
He slipped his pants off, knelt down and slid under the sheet and lay under it, face down. I knew he had a beautiful back but in combination with his long slender legs, his tapered waist and hard lean flanks, I have to say that my breath caught at the sight of him naked.  
  
I knelt down beside him, dropped some oil on my palms and warmed it with my hands and then moved in to give his back a long strong stroke, when his whole body flinched as if he had been stricken, and I heard a distinct giggle. I tried to smooth his back again, and this time, he broke into paroxysms of giggles followed by a snort. His body twisted into a bizarre position and he shook with laughter.  
  
I had to laugh too when I saw my plan shot down. He was nowhere near ready for a massage.  
  
"Hey, Chapel, has anyone ever told you you're a very tense person?" He didn't answer except with snickers and wheezes. "And in my experience a tense person is ticklish."  
  
Chapel curled himself into a fetal ball and squeaked, "I am not ticklish."  
  
"Oh, really? Professor Hornfreak has detected a lie and lies should be punished," I said and in a dual attack tickled his neck and his armpit at the same time. He rolled around to try to evade my questing fingers while his body shook with laughter. He left his side wide open, and I jabbed him there to get his attention and then feinted to his stomach which I tickled mercilessly. He had the nerve to attempt to lay hands on me.  
  
"Sorry, not ticklish," I said in a superior voice, and with a quick move I dived for his right foot, captured it, held it at an awkward angle so he couldn't kick me and tickled away, until tears came out of his eyes. He finally got loose and tried to grab my ankle for a take down, but I dodged the move and went back to tickling his sensitive neck.  
  
"You're killing me, Middie," he pleaded with me, laughing helplessly all the while. In a moment of pity, I let up on him, and he grabbed me round the waist and tried to pull me to the floor, but I slipped his grip, ran for the bed and grabbed my pillow. In a second I was back and starting hitting him with it, head, stomach, back, butt, legs, side, and I kept on hitting him. He ran to his bed, grabbed his and started whacking me. We stood toe to toe, trading pillow blows and laughing until tears were running down both our cheeks. Finally in an unexpected move, he picked me up, shoved me down and pinned me, then leaned in and claimed a kiss. His cock was hard and erect on my belly and he sat there looking pleased with himself for a moment, but then I could see him lapsing into self-doubt. I seized the moment , lifted my lips to his chest and latched on to the café- au-lait nipple that I had been dying to suck and gave it my attention. With a deep moan, he rolled off me and onto his back and I sucked and tongued it with intense satisfaction.  
  
"Stop, Midvalley, don't do this," he commanded me his eyes slitted, his breath panting. "Just stop it. I can't stand this."  
  
I ignored him and sucked for a little longer while he moaned as if in pain.  
  
"All right. I'll stop." I said, and I stopped for about five heartbeats, just long enough for him to beg me, "Oh, God, no, Midvalley, don't stop." And I started again.  
  
I tongued and teased and sucked until he was incoherent and his erection was rock hard again. My lips left his nipple and my hand went to his cock. It was circumcised and the same honey golden shade as the rest of his body. I licked my lips and sighed as I considered this new instrument, a slightly different shade of gold than Silvia, but oh, the possibilities for some beautiful music. I moaned as I held it in my hand and a bead of come leaked from the tip, I swirled it round on the head of his shaft. Nick raised up on his elbows and watched me.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked.  
  
"Hush, shush," I said, "I'm thinking of the notes to a song I want to play." And then I began.  
  
I took the tip in my mouth and squeezed it gently between my lips and tongue, then washed the head with my tongue. His cock throbbed like a metronome. I opened my mouth fully and took the length of it in, while Nick arched his head back , and asked in an almost pleading tone, "What are you doing to me, Midvalley?"  
  
I couldn't answer in words, but with the suction of my mouth sliding up and down his cock, my lips catching on the rim where the shaft met the head and nipping lightly there, my tongue gliding over and over the tip, I think he knew. And I did the same again and again, mouth sucking, tongue swirling, lips pressing. Head moving up and down, over and over and over.  
  
At first he just sighed as if he couldn't catch his breath. But after my continued attentions, he couldn't control his breathing at all. His lungs filled and emptied in fits and starts. He would sigh the lightest of sighs and then groan deeply as if drunk, and pant or moan as each new sensation possessed him.  
  
"Midvalley, what," he gasped, but he never finished the sentence, but clenched his hand in my hair and then loosened it as if in apology and then he lay both hands on my head and pressed down, his touch half caress, half unspoken request for more. I gave him more.  
  
"Please," he said.  
  
"God!" he groaned, and he began to work his cock in my mouth, his pelvis pumping with small fast movements.  
  
"Oh, God. Please," his voice was shaking.  
  
I could feel it building in him, the heat and the pressure and I strengthened the suction of my mouth on his prick.  
  
He begin to thrust deeper in my throat, the movement of his cock increasing little by little until finally it was pistoning in frenzy with the strength of his need. The action of his cock in my mouth was so exciting to me that I moaned and moaned deep in my throat. He cried out from the sheer excitement of it. Now I could feel him coming closer and closer. My breathing was labored and deep. Oh, he was so close now with no way out, his hands clutched the sheet and he cried out again. He felt so good in my mouth like Silvia's reed, all slicked up so I sucked him, sucked him hard. His body jerked and spasmed . He gasped, "God, Midvalley !" and came trembling in my mouth. I sucked and swallowed what he gave me and then lay quivering myself with my eyes closed and my heart racing  
  
He lay shuddering with me across his thighs and I could feel small twitches and tremors in his skin there, the aftershocks of his climax. My lips still on him, I raised my head to see him looking at me, his eyes smudged with lust and tears. I released him and he pulled me up to him, wrapped me close with his long arms and tongue-kissed me passionately. I moaned wanting him. His heart was pounding fast and hard.  
  
"Is that me I taste in your mouth?" he whispered.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"I want to do something for you, Middie. I want to do something for you, Middie." He embraced me fiercely and kissed me again. " I don't think I can wait. I want to taste you."  
  
"I'm sure you'll get your chance, Nick," I chuckled. "But right now you are in serious need of a shave, and I'm not risking any whisker burn on my cock, I have plans for it later. Tell you what though. You really want to do something for me?" I whispered.  
  
"Anything, Middie," he whispered back.  
  
"'I'd kill for a cigarette right now."  
  
He grinned, stepped over to the chair where his jacket was hanging and pulled out a pack of Kuroneko's and a book of matches, lit up two and brought them back with an ashtray and sat up beside me on the bed. He looked sweetly happy and his eyes kept drifting to me as we smoked. I was happy for him but I knew that bone-deep I wanted more than ever to fuck myself blind in him.  
  
I was beginning to get a little hungry. "Let's order up some room service," I said and I pulled on a bell rope that would summon the maid service to our room.  
  
"I could eat," said Chapel. "What else is on the schedule today. Are you playing tonight, Middie?"  
  
"I just played. One of my better pieces, I might add," I said smugly and gave him a grin. "All that is on my schedule today is mind-blowing sex with you. I hope your schedule is clear, Chapel, cause quite frankly, neither one of us is leaving this room for any reason until we have completely fucked our brains out. That's the schedule. Do you think you're up to it?"  
  
"I'm game to try."  
  
"While we're waiting for our meal, we ought to shave. My skin was starting to redden where Chapel's stubble had rubbed me. My beard had grown some and Chapel's face had the same marks.  
  
"So, that's whisker burn," he said with a laugh as he rubbed his face. He walked to the bathroom. It was good to see him so comfortable in his nakedness.  
  
I threw on a sweatshirt, pulled my shaving gear out of my luggage and went into the bathroom. Nick was just finishing his shave and patting his face dry. He looked so good clean-shaven. I ran my hand along his face. It was smooth. He smiled at me. I heard the knock at the door.  
  
"Shall I go get that?" he asked.  
  
"No, you'd better stay here. I might get jealous if someone else wanted to jump your bones and they would if they saw you naked like this" He slid his arms around me, and I smiled as I slipped away and went out to place the order. The maid was a brown-eyed brunette named Sarah and she told me that she would have the order sent up in the dumb-waiter. I tipped her $$10. I hadn't known that we had a dumb-waiter., but she pointed out a panel in the wall. She said the food would probably arrive in an hour. That suited me perfectly. We could get naked and stay naked and not worry about interruptions. I put the "Do not Disturb" sign on the outside doorknob after she left and after I locked the door, I stripped.  
  
Chapel was lying on his bed smoking a cigarette. When he saw me strip, I caught a flash of some feeling in his eye as he looked at me. I went into the bathroom and shaved. When I came out, I went over to his bed and sat beside him and brushed my hand casually over his back. He broke out in gooseflesh. " How about that massage now, Nick?" I asked and he put out his cigarette.  
  
He got up and lay down on the blankets that I had rearranged. This time when I oiled my hands and started to work on him, he was relaxed enough to let me. I probed the knots and pockets of tension in his back and rubbed them away. He moaned as I hit tender spots.  
  
"I didn't even know I had muscles there," he marveled. "The Cross Punisher takes its toll on my back."  
  
A moment later, I had worked my way down to his buttocks, and his back was rigid instantly .  
  
"Are you going to fuck me now?"  
  
His voice was so tense, I shook my head and sighed, "No."  
  
The arrival of the dumb waiter ended the moment of tension between us.  
  
"Actually, I thought we'd have some breakfast," I said casually. I walked over to the cabinet and opened it. There was a tray with covered dishes and a coffee pot and cups. I carried the tray to the table. Chapel had pulled on his sweatpants and lit a cigarette. In between drags, he gnawed at his thumbnail. He poured coffee for both of us.  
  
I took the lid off a covered plate and set it in front of him. He murmured something inaudible, sipped his coffee, stared out the window, sucked down the rest of his cigarette, stubbed it out and lit another one.  
  
"What did you say?" I asked him.  
  
I lifted the lid off my plate and took a slice of bacon and chewed it as I watched him. He nervously rubbed his forehead.  
  
"Nick?" I said.  
  
His gaze flicked to me, he raised his eyebrows, and his gaze flicked away.  
  
"Nick," I said again, and he looked at me, but his glance flicked away.  
  
"What did you say?" I asked again.  
  
"I didn't mean to act like that, so nervous about it, but I can't seem to help it. I'm sorry. I don't want to disappoint you."  
  
I got up and moved my chair next to his, took his head in my hands and said, "Nick, look at me."  
  
He looked me in the eye.  
  
"Relax," I said. "Nothing is going to happen to you that you don't want to happen.  
  
He didn't respond, just sat there looking nervous and unsure. I felt the need to cut the tension. I picked up my chair and walked back to my place at the table and sat down, and laughed to myself with a very smug smile on my face.  
  
"What are you laughing about?" he asked me, his curiosity aroused.  
  
"I know something you don't know."  
  
"And what's that?"  
  
I picked up my spoon and dug into my scrambled eggs.  
  
"Where this spoonful of eggs is going."  
  
"And where is that?"  
  
With barely controlled snickers, I flipped the spoon into egg-launcher mode and laughed in triumph as the egg bits split apart and some landed on his chest, some on his face and more in his hair. I sat there, shaking helplessly with laughter, while he tried to look dignified and failed utterly. I couldn't help laughing . At least the worried look was gone.  
  
"Oh, you are going to pay for this," he said with the beginnings of a grin starting to light his face.  
  
I grabbed a piece of bacon and threw it at him. It landed on his chest and oddly stuck there. It was so silly, that gravity-defying bacon hooked on one of the hairs of his chest, that we both snorted with laughter.  
  
"Nice shooting, Professor Hornfreak," Chapel said and then he removed it and took a bite. He put his hand into his plate, picked up a fistful of eggs and looked at me. I jumped out of my chair and ducked, but he read me too well and scored a direct hit to the gut. I tumbled onto the folded blankets and landed on my back with the eggs all over my naked lap.  
  
"Yes, the number one sharpshooter scores again!" he crowed in victory, and then he gave me a leer, grabbed a handful of bacon and slid down beside me.  
  
"I'm really, really hungry and you shouldn't waste food," he said and sighed deeply. He bent his head to my groin and licked up some of the eggs that had fallen there and I sighed even more deeply.  
  
"What a mess," he said, "I'm going to have to clean you up."  
  
He licked the eggs from everywhere. I shivered in pleasure as he tongued me. When he ran out of eggs to clean up, he tore up the pieces of bacon and made a bacon trail over my torso. He had placed pieces strategically on my nipples and it was to my right one he went first, and he sucked in first the bacon and then my nipple and he held it in his mouth, and savored it with smoky hooded eyes. God, he was surprising me, and I loved it.  
  
"This is really good bacon," he said in a sexy voice that got me more excited and then he sucked up the other nipple, and then started to work his way down my chest. He ate the piece on my belly button and finally got down to my cock. He pretended he couldn't get the bacon off, just licked and licked at my cock, while I went crazy from his tongue on me. He took it in his mouth and sucked it voluptuously and then ever so slowly released me from its grip and rubbed his smooth clean shaven cheek up against it.  
  
"Is that smooth enough for you?"  
  
"Silky," I said and my cock quivered in agreement.  
  
"That was really, really good bacon," he sighed huskily and went down on me again. My groin leapt, my eyes closed and I groaned. The knowledge that the man that I had hungered for had taken my hot, hard and heavy cock in his mouth hit me with overwhelming force. He tongued my shaft and licked the tip and sucked me. He wanted to please me and, oh God, how he was pleasing me!  
  
I was in his mouth. Nick's mouth was on my cock. My senses reeled. I drew my breath in sharply and a shiver ran down my spine and I shuddered as he sucked me harder.  
  
"Oh, God, that feels so good, Nick."  
  
The sound of my voice speaking his name seemed to spur him on. Every movement of lip and tongue that I had used to make him come, I now found used on me. Lost in the satiny warmth of his mouth, I blindly grabbed onto the blanket as if to steady myself, and I breathed his name, "Nick." He was fucking me with his mouth.  
  
I could feel the spasm building in me and gasped as I came and spurted hot into him. He swallowed what he could and looked groggy, half-drunk with lust when he was done and he was breathing heavily. So was I. With my eyes closed, I relived my climax and shivered when I remembered how intense it was. Nick was pure aphrodisiac to me and my heart expanded with warmth for him.  
  
He had slipped off me onto the blankets and lay on his back with his eyes closed. I slid down beside him and took him in my arms and held him.  
  
"Did you like it just a little?" he asked shyly.  
  
"Yeah," I said, "I loved breakfast. You really surprised me. You catch on fast."  
  
"I was just starting to get a little worried about lunch and dinner."  
  
"You shouldn't worry. I think you may just be a natural. Just a late bloomer is all." He seemed to perk up at this. "I need a shower. I can still feel those eggs on my crotch. Care to join me?"  
  
He did. It was sweet in there with the warm water cascading down on our bodies. The shower was an appreciation. We soaped each other and ran hands over each other and rubbed our slick bodies together and kissed and that was all. Then we got out and toweled off. He was going to leave, but I sidled up behind him and slid my hands round the skin of his chest in a way that made him shiver and gave him a kiss where his neck met his shoulder. The tender skin of my groin felt the heated curves of his buttocks and my cock rose of its own volition. He rubbed his butt against it and the act was so unexpected that I felt almost faint and had to lean on him to keep my balance. He took my hand and pulled me after him into the other room and lay face down on the blankets on the floor. I knelt down beside him.  
  
"I want you to fuck me, but I'm afraid, Midvalley," he said. "But I'm tired of being afraid. I don't care if it hurts. I want you."  
  
Suddenly I was afraid that I would hurt him. I felt like a fool. Me and the sexual self-confidence that had led me down this path. What a laugh. For maybe the first time in my life, I felt way out of my depth. His innocence and honesty touched me more deeply than the smoothest moves of my most experience sex partners. I didn't want to hurt him.  
  
"Please," he said. " Are you going to fuck me now?"  
  
I stroked his back with a tender caress. "Yes, Nick," I whispered, " but not here, not like this. When I come inside you, I want to see your face." That thought aroused me deeply.  
  
He stood up. I rose from my knees and walked with him to my bed. My massage oil was on the night table, I knelt down on the bed and signaled for him to do the same. I took the bottle and oiled his nipples and cock. The lightest of my touches aroused him and he breathed heavily.  
  
"Now do the same for me," I said. The touch of his oiled hands on me was exquisite.  
  
"Now let's kiss," I said.  
  
We rubbed each other, nipple on nipple and cock and cock , belly to belly, lip to lip, tongue to tongue, and heart on heart. The oil seemed to amplify sensation and with desire stoked by this easy friction, I was simmering with lust. I oiled my hands and eased a finger in his anus. His eyes widened and he inhaled deeply in surprise. "Now do the same for me."  
  
I closed my eyes and abandoned myself to his touch and sighed as he penetrated me. Then it was my turn and I oiled my two fingers and they slid into him and he gave a deeper gasp and his cock throbbed from the action. "Do the same for me, Nick."  
  
I oiled my three fingers and eased them slowly into him. He closed his eyes and his lips tightened but made no sound just breathed. Then it was his turn and he slid his fingers into me and the sensation caused me to sigh deeply. I sat down on the bed.  
  
I had prepared him as carefully as I could. My cock had just enough oil on it to ease the entry, not so much as to prevent all friction . He was still kneeling. I held him by the waist and slowly lowered him onto my erect cock, but as I did a tear drop beaded up in the center of each of his lower lashes and hung suspended there.  
  
It was so very quiet in the room. We hesitated in that posture for the longest time, the only sound in the room his light and troubled breathing. I looked at him with concern. In combat, Chapel is fearless, but here poised on my cock, he looked scared, lost and vulnerable. I knew he was fighting his memories. Though all his scars were on the inside, they were plain enough for me to see. I longed to reach out to him and hug away his fears, but I didn't want to influence him. This was his decision to make. But gravity and the lubricant were on my side. After several minutes as if a switch had been flipped , Nick sank down slowly onto my shaft until I was almost hilt deep in him. He sagged forward with a moan, closed his eyes and clung tightly to me, content for the moment just to breathe.  
  
I waited for him to make the next move, but when I felt myself fully in him, I realized that he had given me the gift of himself and felt a pang in my heart. Finally he sought my mouth and gave me a long deep wet kiss. Our mouths locked, I began to move in him. But then he gave out a moan that sounded like pain to me and he broke the kiss and I stopped moving, my heart concerned for him.  
  
"Don't stop," he said. He shook his head. "I was just remembering."  
  
I pulled him close and tenderly kissed his cheek.  
  
"It's different now, Nick. Please, be here with me now. I'm in you now, not Mazarov. Please, be with me. I'm not Mazarov. Don't think of him when I'm in you. Please." I don't know why it happened, but suddenly I was crying.  
  
My unexpected display of emotion brought him back to the present.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Midvalley. It is different. It's so different." He moaned and kissed my neck and whispered in my ear. "I love the way you touch and hold me," he said. "I love the way you kiss me. I love the feel of you inside me." He slid his arms over my arms, back and shoulders. "And oh, God, Midvalley, your skin----it's so soft, so beautiful, so white, like cream."  
  
His hands on my skin excited me and his words even more so. With a groan, I began to move in him once more, my excitement spurred my lust and soon, I was thrusting my cock deep into him. He was so hot and tight there, I could have screamed from the pleasure of it. Nick just hugged me all the tighter and gripped his legs around me to help me gain a better purchase. The pupils of his eyes were huge and I could feel his heartbeat hammering against my chest.  
  
In the heat of my motion, I put my hand on his cock and started to pump it. He covered my hand with his and showed me the rhythm he needed. He put his other arm round me to brace me and grinned at me, a smile that lit up his eyes and face. His joy spread to me and we moved together, my prick ramming hard and fast and deep into him, our hands a blur on his hot cock. We were riding a wave of intense sensation, striving, pushing, our passion flaming higher until the fire in our groins finally reached its unbearable peak and we let go, found our release in hot jets of sperm and whoops of laughter, then tumbled to the bed in a tangle of limbs. And whose leg or arm belonged to whom, we neither of us cared but lay there entwined, blissful and content. 


	7. Professor Hornfreak's Encore

Professor Hornfreak's Encore  
  
I dozed off and woke a little before first sunset, and found myself looking at Chapel's face. It was good to see him really sleep for once, prone as he was to bouts of insomnia. At least one of the inner demons that plagued him had been laid to rest today. I thought back to how we had spent the time together and a warm feeling flowed through me.  
  
I tried to memorize his face, the twin curves of his dark lashes, high cheekbones, the strong nose, too sturdily built for beauty, but handsome on his face. The mouth that laughed so readily but that often had a tinge of sadness. I pondered the enigma of Nicholas D. Wolfwood-Chapel. What did I really know about him? Everything and next to nothing. It was as if he had two personalities. He was an odd mixture of innocence and cynicism, courage and timidity, so shy and guarded one minute and then so willing to open himself to me the next. On the one hand, no one could be more predictable than Chapel. There was rarely a question about what he would wear, drink, eat or smoke, on the other hand, he surprised me on so many levels. A thousand thoughts flitted through my head as I watched him sleep, but only one feeling.  
  
I called it lust. I called it infatuation, but still somehow, a feeling had taken root in my heart and flourished there. I tried to pull it out as if it was a weed, but the roots were too deep. Just looking at him now made me feel sick with desire, wanting to fill him again, wanting him to fill me. Foolish. Foolish. I lay back and dozed again.  
  
I woke to find him propped on his elbow, looking at me with a thoughtful expression in his deep blue eyes. He reached over and brushed my hair from my forehead and kissed the faint scar. He looked like he wanted to say something.  
  
."What is it?"  
  
"I want you again," he whispered.  
  
"Come and get me," I chuckled.  
  
And then, there was a knock at the door.  
  
"Who the hell is that?" Nick growled," I thought we had the 'Do not Disturb' on the doorknob.  
  
He jumped to his feet, threw on his sweat pants, stormed to the door and flung it open.  
  
"You!" exclaimed Nick as he made a fist. "God, I ought to---"  
  
"Help, Midvalley! Call him off me! I need to talk."  
  
It was Lenny. Nick stepped aside and Lenny squeezed by him.  
  
"Nice chest," he said appreciatively.  
  
I had pulled on my sweats and was sitting at the table. Nick threw himself into a chair, lit a cigarette and fixed Lenny with a lethal stare. The switch from tender lover to stone killer was complete.  
  
I knew that Lenny had taken in the state of the room and had no doubt about what we had been up to. It was second nature for him to make flippant comments about other people's sex lives, but with Chapel's ice cold eyes on him, I knew he'd choked back ten or twenty choice zingers. I had never seen Nick so angry. The only thing that would have stopped Lenny from turning tail and running was if his concern was about music. Despite the fact that Nick had probably scared him shitless, he said, "Well, aren't you going to play tonight, Hornfreak? You told me last night, you needed me. Well, tonight we need you. The club is sold out again. Seriously, the word is out that our playing was so hot last night and yours in particular, that a lot of people are paying to see the Midvalley Five. They are going to be really pissed when they get there and there are only four of us and there is no Midvalley the Hornfreak on the bill. I'm begging you. Come and play."  
  
I looked at Nick to see how he felt.  
  
"I got back so late, I only caught the last two numbers. I'd love to hear you play," he said.  
  
Lenny shot Nick a look of gratitude which was turned aside with icy contempt.  
  
"Can you be there in 45 minutes?  
  
"We'll be there," said Chapel.  
  
"There'll be a taxi waiting downstairs," Lenny called over his shoulder as he bolted from the room.  
  
We dressed hurriedly, but we were still so connected by our intimacies that it was hard to keep our hands off each other. If anything, we were hornier with our clothes on. My mind busied itself with a half dozen scenarios, imagining places where I could fuck or suck him off between sets.  
  
We were half-way down the hotel steps when Chapel reminded me, "You forgot Silvia."  
  
I rolled my eyes and went back to the room. When I got down to the bottom of the stairs, I looked at Nick, and said, "I'm having a hard time thinking of anything else."  
  
"I know what you mean," he sighed.  
  
When we got to the club I made sure that they gave Chapel a good seat. There were only a few minutes before the set was supposed to start. Just enough time for a squeeze of the hand, then the club owner got on the loud speaker and announced the Midvalley Five and the audience erupted in applause.  
  
The music that night was amazing. If I should ever die and go to heaven, I hope they have music like we played. I'll probably go to hell and have Skip Walker as my drummer, but at least for a night, I experienced a little heaven on earth.  
  
Sometimes in a club, I'll listen to a band playing and I'll be thinking I've heard this all a hundred times before. Stale, flat, boring-uninspired crap. And then maybe by the second or third set, they get loose. To me it always feels as if a muse entered the club and for a while the music flows with incredible beauty. It was like that for us all night long. The souls of five musicians tethered together in an attempt to express the essence of song. Chapel has his God, though I don't begin to understand its place in his life. Music is my god and I worshipped it that night.  
  
Lenny saved "Daredevil" for the last encore. We annihilated it and the audience was blown away. The applause went on and on. I caught a glimpse of Chapel out of the corner of my eye and he was pounding his hands to pulp for us. I saw tears in his eyes and as if we were bound by some biological tie, I found tears sliding down my cheeks. The audience thought that was so great that I was showing emotion, they clapped some more.  
  
I began to be impatient to be with Nick again. I wanted to get the chit chat and autographs done with, take him home and bury myself in his sweet ass. But the crowd was so big and enthusiastic , for the first time in my life, I felt ill at ease with the fan adulation. There had never been so much contact before. People put hands on my back, on my shoulders, my waist, my ass. Finally it was getting difficult to stay polite. I left and went to the employee rest room to take a piss. It took a minute or two to relax enough to even do that. I mentally shrugged away the memory of all those hands clutching at me and did my business. God that crowd had been hard to deal with. I pushed back into the hallway and saw Dave the Roadie. He looked like he was looking for someone. I wondered if he and Lenny were back together. Nick was leaning against the wall in an alcove looking out towards the bandstand. Dave spun him around and planted a wet one on his lips. Nick fell back against the wall with a confused look. I cleared my throat and when Dave saw me, he hurried out the other way.  
  
I grabbed Silvia and said to Nick "Let's get the hell out of here." We pushed the back door open and stepped into the night.  
  
"Shall I call a cab?" asked Chapel.  
  
"Hell, no. Let's walk."  
  
Nick fished out a smoke, flicked a match, cupped his hands around the flame and lit the cigarette. We walked for a while in companionable silence.  
  
"I'm glad I came to hear you play tonight. You were great."  
  
"Thanks. Everything was fine until the end when all those people were touching me. All I wanted was to get away and be with you."  
  
"Did you? I wanted to be with you too. I got jealous. Again. Jealousy is a strange thing. I never had to deal with it before. But last night when I saw Lenny kissing you, I could have killed him. Today when he came into the room, all I could think of was him and you together last night and I wanted to smash his face. You and Lenny were lovers before, weren't you, Midvalley?"  
  
"We had sex, Nick, but I wouldn't have called us lovers."  
  
He sucked in a lungful of smoke and finally blew it out.  
  
"Then all those fans touching you tonight," he continued. "I was sure you'd want to go home with one of them. Isn't that what you used to do? I overheard lots of talk about you tonight from some really attractive people. You're more famous than you know. You could have anyone you wanted. They all want you. You're great. I felt jealous of them too."  
  
I wondered where he was going with this conversation, and I began to feel uneasy. It seemed like it had cost him a lot to say this and I think he was expecting a response from me but I couldn't think of anything. Nick sighed and lit another cigarette, took a drag and then slid an arm around me. I slid mine around him and we kept walking.  
  
"Jealousy is a dangerous emotion," I said.  
  
"I know," he responded, "I felt it. I think I could have killed Lenny, for real."  
  
"Jealous lovers kill the ones they say they love. Do you want to kill me, Nick, if I decide I want to screw Lenny instead of you? What gives you the right to decide? You don't own me anymore than I own you. Should I kill you because I saw you kissing Dave the Roadie tonight?"  
  
"I didn't kiss him. He kissed me."  
  
"I noticed you didn't turn your head away."  
  
"He caught me by surprise. I knew you went to the men's room. I thought it was you coming back."  
  
"I wish it had been."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. But you're scaring me, Nick. I guess if seeing me with Lenny made you jealous enough to want me, maybe I'm grateful you were. Because I did want you. But I won't tolerate jealousy in a lover."  
  
"I wanted you before that," he said quietly.  
  
This was news to me and made me curious, for I had wondered what had changed his mind.  
  
"What made you realize that you wanted me?"  
  
"I was sick with worry when you got shot that you were going to die. I knew I didn't want to lose you. And then when I was taking care of you I started to notice things about you that maybe I was afraid to before.  
  
Like the way you toss your head back when you say something funny and your hair falls around your forehead like commas. The way your eyes light up when you talk to me, and your skin is really something special to touch. I never knew your skin was so soft and pale until I changed your bandage.  
  
I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I got an erection when I touched you. I had given up hope that anything of that nature was even possible for me. But even though I wanted you, I was afraid that I would fail and wouldn't be able to perform."  
  
"So I called you a pathetic tease and drove you off to Mei City."  
  
"To tell you the truth I never went to Mei City. I just had to get away. I figured if I mentioned Legato's name you wouldn't ask for details. I actually went out by December."  
  
"Isn't that where you studied to be a priest."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So, did I drive you off to December with the things I said to you?"  
  
"Being called pathetic hurt a lot, but I still felt that if you hadn't had a concussion you would never have said it. Not that I didn't think it was true. Mazarov and his gang left scars. My biggest fear has been that I would be pathetic for the rest of my life. I used to hide the pain behind my priestly chastity, but I can tell you that it's one thing to choose to be chaste, but quite another thing when you have no choice. I have been so hungry for human touch that I do reach out from time to time. I never meant to tease you though. I went to December to try to clear my head and try to think things through."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I couldn't think. I spent my time helping out at an orphanage there. Thank God there was so much to do. Otherwise, I would have just worried the whole time. Then a few days ago, I thought I'd better head back because I told you I would. Maybe I felt in the back of my mind that something might still be possible between us. I don't know. And I would have been back earlier, but my bike got a flat. Picked up a spine from a Devil's Claw. Long story. Anyhow, when I finally got in and saw your note, I cleaned up and came straight to the club. I think I heard a couple of numbers, next thing I know, you and Lenny were getting it on in the alley. And I got jealous. Now you tell me you won't tolerate jealousy in a lover."  
  
I had let the "L" word slip out. But it was how I thought of him.  
  
"Am I your lover, Midvalley? Or am I just for sex, like Lenny?"  
  
Shit. I thought to myself. Trust Chapel to lay it all on the line. I never expected to have to answer a question like this so soon. I just didn't know what answer to give him. I pulled him to me in an embrace and kissed him. "You are so naïve, Chapel."  
  
He pulled away from me and reached into his jacket for cigarettes again. He lit one, took a drag, and said, "What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Don't be so defensive." Defensive didn't quite cover his reaction. He looked stricken.  
  
"Nick, it's a natural reaction for someone who has never had good sex to attach a deeper meaning to it when they finally do. As much as I like you, and believe me, I do, my sex life is complicated. Hell, my whole life is complicated and so is yours for that matter.  
  
Your equipment works. You are officially no longer an asexual freak. You are a very attractive man in case you didn't know it. Many a night I have watched women throwing themselves at you while you sat there and smoked. Did you not notice them or were you afraid to because you thought your cock was broken? Maybe someday you'd like to have children. I think the world would be a better place for having a bunch of little Chapels running around. And you know, Nick, no matter how often we screw each other, I will never be able to give you children.  
  
And then there is the job. It's a pleasure being partnered with you. But how long do you think they will let it go on? A year or two at most and then what? When we are separated for months at a time, I know I'm going to get horny and I know I'm going to scratch the itch whether you're there or not. I would expect you to do the same. I want you to play the field, get comfortable with your sexuality. I'm saying this for your own good because you are my lover and not just for sex like Lenny. But here it is, I will not tolerate a jealous lover."  
  
He reached for me, looked into my eyes and held his palm against my cheek.  
  
"So what do non-jealous lovers do, Midvalley?" he asked.  
  
"They trust each other."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," he said and he kissed my neck as if discovering it for the first time.  
  
"And for God's sake, don't kill Lenny. Great musicians are hard to find." I murmured in his ear.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind, too," he whispered back. He slid his arms around me and pulled me to him in a tight embrace, closed my mouth with a kiss, slid his hand slowly inside my pants until it came to rest on my cock, and fingered me until I was quivering and half-blind with lust for him.  
  
I did the same to him, so he could feel the sweet torture of being pushed to the brink with no hope of immediate release. We were shameless, but had no witnesses except a black she-cat in heat who yowled pitifully for a mate.  
  
When we finally reached the hotel, we barely kept our hands off each other in the lobby and then only because of the clerk on duty. Our ascent of the stairs was downright dangerous, as we unbuttoned and kissed and tripped, bared chests, sucked nipples, necks, earlobes, lips-then stumbled and fondled and groaned. Careless of discovery, we finally staggered into our room, peeled jackets and shirts in seconds, pants pooled around our ankles. We neither of us could get our shoes off. We fell to our knees on the blankets still piled on the floor.  
  
God, we were hot for each other. Our hands and lips were all over each other., but we were still hampered by our pants and shoes. Our haste was comical. Nick managed finally to kick off his soft tan shoes. He wriggled out of his slacks while I was still wrestling with a knot in my left wingtip that refused to budge. Nick, impatient for action used my empty trouser leg as a tow line to drag me across the floor to the bed. He dropped down onto the blanket beside me, wrestled with my shoe and swore at it , until with a look of triumph on his face, it came off. He tossed it on the floor and peeled off my grey sock while I laughed at his antics.  
  
He straddled my waist and leaned over me with a sexy smile. "That was the hardest thing I did all day. I think I deserve a reward," he said.  
  
"The hardest thing?" I said as I stroked his erection which throbbed at my touch. "I think I deserve the reward. You've put this off long enough. I want to feel you inside me tonight, Nick. Why don't you come inside me?"  
  
"I'm not sure I know what to do."  
  
"Do it anyway. Think of it as your final exam from Professor Hornfreak. Just relax. I'm an easy grader," and besides," I moaned with pleasure at the thought, " I really want to feel you inside me."  
  
We kissed as lovers kiss, with tenderness and passion. He was careful with me as I had shown him. He lay me on the edge of the bed. I leaned back. With his right knee on the bed and left foot on the floor, he raised my buttocks with his hands and ever so slowly eased his cock into my opening. We both gasped at the sensation. I hooked my left leg over his right shoulder and he began to move in me, slowly testing this new feeling, the almost unbearably pleasurable compression of the tight sheath on his tender skin. He closed his eyes and with every slow thrust into me, he groaned deeply.  
  
It was hot in the room, no breeze flowed through the curtains. Sweat beaded his forehead and when he opened his eyes, he looked into mine and thrust again. Then he shifted me further back and moved his left knee onto the bed. I brought my legs down from his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist. He leaned in close to me and fastened his lips on my neck and kissed it as if he meant to consume it. I gave myself over to the sensation of his movement within me and with every slow thrust, I felt a dizzying heat begin to build. His body began to shudder with each push he made into me and finally when the heat seemed to reach critical mass, he covered my mouth with his and slid in his wild tongue. He began to move faster in me. I captured his tongue and sucked on it. This seemed to drive him crazy. He felt the same tight pressure on his tongue as he felt on his cock. When I released it, he uttered a choked animal cry.  
  
He was so very deep in me. I felt him with my mind and then as if a lens were opening, I looked down at myself through his eyes, felt his pleasure as he stroked my skin with his hands, felt the tenderness and lust with which he crushed my lips beneath his. I felt each sensation of his blood engorged cock as it moved in the so tight opening. I have never seen myself as beautiful, but through his eyes I saw a Midvalley that I never knew existed. Was my body that well-knit, my eyes so liquid, my features so fine, the fall of my hair so graceful? I felt the agitated flutters of his heart, so like my own. So this was the love that he felt for me then. I felt his pleasure and saw in slow motion as his hand reached down to stroke my cock. He stroked in time with the rhythm of his motion in me, faster and faster like an arrow shot from a bow, seeking its target, focused yet abandoned. I cried out in surprise as I fell into my body, found my release and my hot semen jetted onto his belly. With a cry as startled as my own, he came in me some moments later, thighs trembling. Then he slipped himself out of me and still trembling, lay his length along side me, his head propped on his hand, his dark bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. I brushed them idly back with my hand. He leaned over and kissed my forehead.  
  
He wore a puzzled look and some other emotion played on his face that I could not read. A delicious lassitude overcame me and I could not keep my eyes open. I stretched, sighed, and sleep claimed me.  
  
When I woke some hours later, I found sleep had claimed him too. A cool breeze was finally flowing through the window. I covered us with a sheet and we slept until morning. 


	8. A Mission of Mercy

A Mission of Mercy  
  
When I woke up, Nick was still in bed beside me, a pleasant surprise, since he was usually an early riser. He was staring at the ceiling with an earnest look on his face.  
  
"You look serious," I said. "Something on your mind?"  
  
"Well, yes. It's about last night. I had the strangest feeling while I was in you, that you were in me."  
  
"Ah, the glory of sex."  
  
"This was different from what we did before. It was as if.I felt your mind in me. Did it really happen or am I going insane? Please, Midvalley, I've got to know."  
  
I felt a little sad. "Did you hate it then?"  
  
"It was real? What was it, Midvalley?"  
  
"I guess you could call it a gift or a talent I have, though most of the time it's just a curse. You know that Legato and some of the other Gung-ho Guns have psionic powers. I'm sure you've at least seen them teleporting. You've seen me generate shock waves with Silvia, but you probably don't know that my power flows from emotion. I'm an empath. I can feel what others are feeling, and most of the time, it's not much of a picnic on this planet."  
  
Over the past few months, I have gradually become more attuned to your emotions. Last night was not the first time I was in your mind, but it was the first time you trusted me enough to open yourself fully to me. The first time I was in you, your mind was on Mazarov, and I caught an image of you with him in your mind. I felt him in you tearing you up inside and the feelings of pain that came from you were intense. The image came so fast that I found myself I crying before I knew why I was and begged you not to think of him. But last night, all I could feel was the pleasure you felt in me. Tell me that you didn't hate it."  
  
"If it was real, it was the best thing that ever happened to me."  
  
"And to me. It was real, Nick."  
  
"Real intense! What are you trying to do to me, Professor Hornfreak? Spoil me for regular mortals? And I had big plans to screw the room service maid after breakfast and bang Dave the Roadie's ass tonight. I know how it is with you non-jealous lovers. You want to spread the joy."  
  
"Dave the Roadie can kiss my ass and so can the maid. And he'd better keep his lips to himself or Silvia will blow him a new asshole."  
  
"You sound jealous, Midvalley. Are you sure you're not? I won't tolerate a jealous lover, you know."  
  
"Don't call Professor Hornfreak on his tomas shit, Chapel. It's time for another lesson."  
  
Nick grinned, "I thought I passed my final exam last night."  
  
"You're ready for some post-graduate work now. But for God's sake let's shave first."  
  
We made love three different ways that morning, the last time in a position so weird, it would be hard to describe. It left me giddy and weak in the knees.  
  
"You're gonna be the death of me, Chapel."  
  
"But what a way to go, no?"  
  
"Yeah, wouldn't it be funny to be found dead in that position?"  
  
"It'd be funnier finding someone else dead in that position. God, what is wrong with me? I'm so horny all the time. I hope I'm not wearing you out, Middie."  
  
"Hey, Chapel, as hard as it is for me to believe, it took a sex-starved priest to finally match the stamina of the legendary Hornfreak."  
  
"Does that mean we can do it again or not?"  
  
"Oh, for God's sake, you're going to wear it away to a stub."  
  
"Just one more time?"  
  
"All right, into the shower with you then, but afterwards I really need to check the mail."  
Before we went into the hotel dining room, I picked up a large envelope from the hotel desk.  
  
Chapel received a telegram, but didn't disclose the contents to me.  
  
The big envelope was from headquarters. I read it over breakfast. It was a long letter laying out the details and objectives of five new missions.  
  
"Five?" Chapel asked. "What a relief! I am so broke."  
  
Chapel was often broke. I don't know what he spent his money on. He talked of a debt. I wondered if he gambled. But when he was broke, he wouldn't borrow money from me. He wouldn't take it as a gift or a loan. He just cut out what he called luxuries, like drinking liquor or eating out. He lived on those tiny meal ration bars. If he ran out of money for cigarettes or coffee, he'd go hear confessions. This morning, as usual, his breakfast was black coffee and cigarettes. I was glad he'd have some spending money soon.  
  
The first four missions were local and turned out to be routine to the point of boredom. We put the fear of Knives into the sheriff of Randall City, who had allowed himself to be influenced by some factions unfriendly to our Master. We had to kill a bank accountant at the Randall City Bank for embezzling $$2,000,000 from various accounts of Master Knives. We recovered the funds. A gentleman farmer had found a way to siphon off energy from the energy plant without being detected, or so he thought. After we executed him, we hanged his body from a lamp post in the busiest plaza in town with a sign on him that read, "I will never steal energy again." Crude but effective, I thought. Finally a gang of young toughs in their mid-teens had made the mistake of robbing a night club that belonged to Master Knives. They didn't get much money, but still it had been a successful robbery and that had impressed Master Knives. Our instructions were to scare them half to death and send them back to Evergreen's Academy. Knives thought he might find a use for them.  
  
The boys recognized us from the picture in the Daily Dish, the gossip rag that had featured our work from the Burns' execution.  
  
"Bernie, it's that sax guy and the priest dude that blew the guy's balls and brains away."  
  
"Shit, Mister," pleaded the gang leader "we didn't know what we were doing. Please, don't. Oh, God, please put that gun away. We'll never try anything like that again. I swear on my mother's grave. Please, not my balls, not my balls, not my balls."  
  
Chapel fired the gun right between the kid's legs, and the kid fainted. He was really relieved when he came to and found his package intact, wet where he'd peed himself, but still intact. We gave all four of them the same treatment and then sent them off on the ten PM sand steamer, pledging eternal loyalty to Knives Millions when they discovered that he had spared their balls and brains.  
  
After collecting our pay for the first four missions, Chapel and I took the next sand steamer to a middling sized town called New Junction. This was to be the site of the fifth and final mission. And this mission had the most potential for problems. We took a room at one of the local saloons, called The Redwing and started planning. Knives owned most of New Junction. The Mayor, the sheriff, the bank, the energy plant. He had just gotten it running smoothly the way he liked things, when a gang calling themselves the Crimson Blades decided to try to take things over. They had robbed the bank and killed the sheriff, which made Knives furious, since he could barely stomach humans in the first place and now was faced with finding a replacement.  
  
Chapel and I reconnoitered the town, gathering information. Chapel heard confessions and visited cafes. I checked out the taverns and night clubs and chatted up the local musicians. I checked in with the mayor. Then Chapel and I rendezvoused to pool our intelligence. We estimated that there were between twenty and thirty members in the gang. They had a couple of armored cars and some pretty high-powered weaponry. But of course, so did we. Chapel's armor-piercing rocket launcher could take out an armored car. Silvia's sonic waves were capable of killing at certain frequencies and an armored car offered no protection from that at all. Chapel had discovered the location of the hideout. One of the women who had confessed to Chapel had been raped by a Blade and had revealed the location to him.  
  
We sat in the Redwing saloon and made plans to assault the hideout and keep the damage to New Junction to a minimum, but the Crimson Blades made another raid on the town that very morning. The two armored cars the gang used barreled up the main drag, machine guns blazing. We could see them out the window. Chapel flicked the buckle on the Cross Punisher and was almost out the door as soon as he saw them with his rocket launcher armed. We swung through the batwing doors together.  
  
A passenger bus got in the line of fire of the armored car and its tires got shot full of holes. The driver lost control and the bus careened down the street. A toddler fell off the boardwalk and struggled to her feet into the path of the weaving bus.  
  
"No!" screamed Wolfwood . He ran at top speed to intercept the child. The sound of gunfire intensified. The gang members used the armored car for shelter and were shooting from slits in the side.. Wolfwood made a rolling dive and snatched the girl from the path of the oncoming bus and rolled on out of the bus's path. Not long after I saw he had recovered the Cross Punisher and I saw him launch a rocket at the armored car and heard the explosion.  
  
That was the last I saw of him for a while. The other armored car advanced towards my position. I brought Silvia to my lips, concentrated on a feeling of utter pain and desolation and the shock wave that Silvia generated produced a chorus of agonized screams from inside the armored vehicle. I played and played until the screaming stopped.  
  
In a few minutes, Chapel walked down to where I was standing. He was frowning. "You okay, Midvalley?"  
  
"Yeah, fine. You don't look so good. Something wrong?"  
  
"Don't feel so good either but I guess I'll live long enough to finish the job. Got clipped in the arm, nothing major. I'll get it looked at after we tie up the loose ends."  
  
I saw his black suit jacket had a rip in the left sleeve.  
  
"You're sure you're okay?"  
  
"I said it's nothing major," he said a little brusquely. "There wasn't any money in the armored car, Midvalley. Twelve dead bodies, but no money. I'm thinking it's at their hideout."  
  
"Let me check this one first " I said. I opened the latch of the armored car and counted 14 corpses, but didn't see any bank bags.  
  
We rented a jeep and headed out to the Crimson Blade hideout. A couple of B-flats from Silvia blew out the windows of the two bunkhouses and took the fight out of any opposition that might be there. In the first larger bunkhouse, I counted one dead body and 17 canvas bags, stenciled with New Junction Bank. The bank manager had informed me that a total of 19 were missing. Chapel found the 18th bank bag lying just inside the door of the other bunkhouse. When he walked around to the back of the house, he found a truck with a driver at the wheel. Blood had leaked from his ears, eyes, nose and mouth and he had a canvas money bag on the seat beside him.  
  
I decided to use the truck to transport the bodies and money bags back to New Junction. Chapel looked worn out so I had him drive back the rental jeep and told him I'd meet him later at the saloon. I got back in the mid- afternoon and returned the money to the bank. I visited the mayor's office shortly afterward and let him know that Master Knives would be pleased if he would arrange a volunteer burial detail for the Crimson Blades. The mayor was delighted to comply. I knew Knives wouldn't pay a penny in burial expenses. He'd think it bad enough that they'd be taking up space in the cemetery. My work done, I headed back to the Redwing.  
  
I found Nick at a dark corner table with a half-empty bottle of bourbon in front of him. His upper body was slumped across the table top, his head face-down, cradled on his folded arms.  
  
"Chapel," I called. But he didn't answer. I shook his shoulder.  
  
"Lemme 'lone," he slurred.  
  
"Nick?"  
  
"Oh," he mumbled, " Sorry, Middie. Need'd a drink awful bad." He raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot. He tried to focus them for a second then his head dropped down to his arms again.  
  
"You're really drunk, Chapel," I said. He didn't answer me. He had passed out.  
  
I had never seen him this drunk before. I thought about helping him up to our room. I touched his jacket. When I looked at my hand, I saw it was smeared with blood.  
  
"Oh, shit, Nick," I groaned, "You were supposed to have that looked at."  
  
I hoisted him over my shoulder carried him upstairs, and set him on his bed. Then I went downstairs again and retrieved the Cross Punisher and Silvia. When I got back upstairs again, he was lying as I had left him. I unbuttoned his black jacket and shirt. Now that I looked more closely at his clothing, I could see the jacket was soaked with blood. I began to be really worried and with my heart in my throat hurriedly pulled off the jacket and shirt, to see where the blood had come from. To my relief, the only wound I found was to his left upper arm where a bullet had blown a chunk out of his triceps. He was still bleeding, but slowly and the wound site, which was about the size of a double dollar coin, had red raw muscle tissue bulging out of it. That kind of injury always makes me gag but I managed to swallow my vomit back. I knew it looked worse than it actually was.  
  
I had disinfectant, gauze and tape, so I swabbed the wound and bandaged it. Nick didn't so much as twitch. He was still dead drunk, so I decided to go for a walk.  
  
I visited a few saloons and night clubs, checking with the bartenders and asking about the music scene. I saw a couple of players I recognized from around, but there wasn't much action this early in the week. After a couple of hours I went back to the Redwing.  
  
I noticed a woman sitting on a bench outside the saloon. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun. She wore a blue shirtwaist dress which had bloodstains on the bodice. She looked like she had been crying. She shifted her body when I stepped up onto the boardwalk and said to me, "You were with the priest."  
  
I had no idea what she wanted from me.  
  
"I saw he got hurt," she continued. "Is he going to be all right?"  
  
"He'll be all right."  
  
"He's the only priest I've seen around these parts. Can you ask him for a favor for me?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"My little girl died and I'd like him to give her the last rites and say the words over her at the cemetery."  
  
"I'll tell him," I said. "Is there a place he can find you?"  
  
"At the Hotel Progress just up the street. I'm a maid there. Ask for Ginnie."  
  
I nodded again. She stood up and said, "She almost got run over by the bus, but he ran and saved her. But it didn't do any good. My baby got hit by a bullet and died in his arms." With tears rolling down her cheeks, she walked slowly away.  
  
I went into the bar and ordered a brandy and thought about Nick as I sipped it. I'd seen Nick tipsy, but never blacked-out-passing-out-drunk before. It must be about the kid I mused to myself. It was gradually dawning on me that children were special to Chapel. I thought back and remembered that he'd saved that waitress's grandchild after the Burns execution. Then he'd gone to work at the orphanage for a couple of weeks. Now I recalled seeing him giving street kids handouts. Hell, even on the way into New Junction on the sand steamer, he played peek-a-boo with a lady's baby for maybe half an hour. Then this morning, he'd risked his life and limbs to try to save a kid's life. The child dies in his arm and so he damn near poisons himself drinking a half bottle of booze. He was going to be in rough shape. I finished the brandy and headed up the stairs.  
  
The first sound that greeted me as I entered the room was violent retching. Nick was kneeling in front of the toilet bowl. I said, "I'm back," and he puked again. I heard the toilet flush and Nick walked into the bedroom. One eye was closed, the other was squinting against the light. He looked like he felt like shit.  
  
"Don't you want to brush your teeth?" I asked.  
  
He didn't answer, just moved unsteadily across the room in his bare feet. He was still dressed in his black trousers as I had left him and his upper body was naked except for the bandage on his arm. He made it to the chair and fumbled in his suit jacket for a smoke and matches. It took him three tries to get the cigarette lit. He gasped in pain on his first inhalation and winced when he exhaled.  
  
"That headache looks like a killer. I've got pain pills. You want some?"  
  
Chapel said nothing.  
  
"Aren't you going to answer me?" I asked.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled and lurched into the bathroom and threw up again. When he came out I said, "Your bandage is soaked through. I should check it and change it and I need to talk to you."  
  
Nick sank down into a chair and smoked. I ran a pan of warm water in the bathroom and bathed his wound. It was red and raw and oozing pus. I know that it hurt like hell when I put the disinfectant on it, but Chapel just smiled, like it was the best thing that ever happened to him. He leaned back with his eyes closed while I bandaged his left arm. He held his cigarette in his right hand close to his chest. I saw a length of hot ash fall from the tip onto his chest. He didn't try to remove it, just left it there to burn.  
  
"Nick, what is wrong with you?" I shouted and brushed away the cinder.  
  
"The little girl died, Midvalley. She died in my arms. It's my fault she's dead."  
  
"Nick, I saw you run to save her from the bus wheels. You took a bullet for her, for Christ's sake. What more could you do? You're only human."  
  
"Took a bullet for her? Maybe they were aiming at me and she just got in the line of fire."  
  
"There wasn't a lot of aiming going on. It was a stray bullet-an accident."  
  
Chapel leaned his elbows on the table and covered his face with both hands. From the small movements of his shoulders I could tell that he was crying. It hurt to see him in such pain.  
  
"I saw the child's mother on the steps out front today," I told him. "The last thing she told me was that she knew you had tried to save her child. She doesn't blame you so why are you punishing yourself?"  
  
He brushed his arm across his eyes and looked up at me.  
  
"Answer me this, Midvalley. If we hadn't been out there trying to kill the Crimson Blades today, would she have died?  
  
"I don't know, Nick."  
  
"It's this fucking job. That's what it is. I really don't mind killing shitheads, but a little girl died in my arms today and I am responsible. I hate this fucking job!"  
  
"You really want to try and quit this job? Don't make me laugh. You're asking for the impossible and you know it. In any case, don't waste all your pity on yourself. She wasn't your child after all. Her mother wanted me to ask you for a favor since you're the only priest in the area. She wants you to give her daughter last rites and pray the words over her at the cemetery. Do you think you can get your head out of your ass long enough to help someone who really needs help?"  
  
Chapel said nothing for the longest time. From the expressions which moved across his face, I could see his emotions were at war within him. Finally he sighed in resignation, and said, "You make me feel ashamed. Of course I'll do it. I owe her my best.and will you come with me, Midvalley?"  
  
"Sure, Nick. Why I'll even go downstairs and bring up a pot of black coffee for you while you clean up."  
  
"Thanks. I don't know why you put up with me."  
  
"Go on. Get cleaned up," I told him. "I'll be back."  
  
We walked to the Hotel Progress and found Ginnie. We walked with her to the undertakers. The child was lying in a small casket. She looked like she was sleeping, but she was so very still. She had fine brown hair like her mother's, a snub nose, delicate eyebrows and lashes. She was dressed in a blue jumper and looked ready for play. Her mother had put lots of stuffed animals in the coffin with her, and a favorite book. Her name was Molly.  
  
Chapel wore his spare suit and wore a purple stole over his shoulders. He told me on the way that last rites is really for the living, but he knew it would make the mother feel better if he went through with parts of the ceremony. So he anointed the little girl's head with holy oils and ointments and blessed her with the sign of the cross, and prayed the Our Father and Hail Mary with the mother and talked with her about her daughter. The undertaker carried the coffin to the cemetery that evening and Chapel started to speak at first sundown.  
  
"I only knew Molly for a very short time, but I felt she was a very special person. Her mother tells me that she was a good girl and a good friend to the hotel cat, Kuroneko. She always made sure that there was fresh water in his bowl and she never pulled his tail.  
  
She gave tea parties and told stories to her stuffed animal friends.  
  
She was a very fast runner and she liked to race with her best friend, Billy, the waiter's son. She and Billy were digging a big hole in the hotel kitchen garden and hoped to find a treasure chest soon. Billy will miss her very much.  
  
But most of all, her mother, Ginnie will miss her. She will miss the joy of Molly's company every day and the sweetness of her hugs and kisses. She will miss the chance to see Molly's future unfold and she will never see the children Molly might have borne.  
  
All that is taken away now. There is an emptiness in our lives, a break in the circle. We are shocked, sad, and angry to have her torn from us so soon. The bitterness of our lives would consume us were it not for our belief that through Jesus Christ, Paradise will one day be within our reach and Molly will be waiting to greet us when we come into his kingdom. And surely even now, she is sitting on his lap listening to a story that makes her smile. And he tells her not to worry for she will see her mother again.  
  
We believe that in time every emptiness will be filled and each broken heart will be mended and we will live in Paradise with Jesus forever and ever. Amen."  
  
Then Chapel sang a cappella a song called the Poor Wayfaring Stranger. In a minor key, it had a haunting melody. His voice was untrained but true and he sang from the heart. I found myself in tears when he sang the words, ' I'm going there to see my mother, I know she'll meet me when I come. I'm only going over Jordan, I'm only going over home.' It reminded me of the loss of my own mother.  
  
We each threw a handful of dirt on the small coffin, and then Chapel and I walked Ginnie back to the hotel. Actually, Chapel and Ginnie walked together almost the whole way in deep conversation.  
  
Ginnie apologized at the very beginning, saying, "Sorry, Mr. Midvalley. I need to make my confession to Father Wolfwood and I need his advice."  
  
So, I walked some distance behind them and wondered what they were saying, but I didn't eavesdrop. But I saw her cry, and then I saw him cry and then they both cried together and hugged. When we arrived at the Hotel Progress, Chapel pulled out a business card from his wallet, counted out $$500, which was about all he had and gave them to her. They hugged again and she went into the hotel.  
  
Then Chapel and I headed up the street to the Redwing.  
  
"So, did you comfort her?" I asked.  
  
"I think she comforted me," he said.  
  
"What was that with the money?" I ventured.  
  
"She was scared about what I said about the emptiness in her life. She didn't want to stay here at the hotel with reminders of her loss around her constantly. I knew about a job opening at the orphanage near December. They always need good help, and there's a little girl Molly's age that just lost her mother. Those two should meet up. The money is to help Ginnie put her affairs in order here and for the sand steamer and bus fare to the orphanage. The Lord works in mysterious ways," he said.  
  
And so do you, my friend, I thought to myself.  
  
I changed the dressing on his arm again when we got upstairs. It had been a long day, so we went to bed right away.  
  
In the middle of the night, Nick's soft sobs awakened me. I took him into my bed, let him cry himself out in my arms, and there he slept until morning.  
  
His breakfast once again was black coffee and cigarettes.  
  
"Lucky for you we get paid today, Chapel. You can have noodles for lunch."  
  
Chapel didn't say a word. He just sipped, puffed and smiled. 


	9. Troubled Sleep

Troubled Sleep  
  
Nick was almost back to his old self after the death of the little girl, Molly. During the day, he was a cheerful companion and a considerate partner, but he was suffering from insomnia again. At night while I slept, he sat up, smoking and brooding for hours at a time. After several days in a row like this, I was missing the feeling of his body in the bed next to mine. One morning I woke up at three in the morning and saw him asleep in his hard-backed chair in what looked like a most uncomfortable position, his head arched back, mouth open, neck pinched.  
  
I roused him and shepherded him to the bed.  
  
"Come on, Nick. Lie down with me, and get some sleep."  
  
He lay down beside me and after a soft squeeze of my hand, was asleep almost instantly, and I not long after.  
  
I was roused from that sound sleep, a scant hour later when Nick rolled his body forcefully against mine with an agitated cry. My arms went around him instinctively and I felt the rapid beating of his heart, but he pulled away and started to get out of bed, but I reached for his hand.  
  
"Don't go, Nick. Stay with me for just a little while longer."  
  
He only stayed because I asked, but he didn't look comfortable where he was.  
  
I put my hand on his shoulder and pleaded with him, "Please don't shut me out, Nick. Talk to me. Can't you tell me why it is you have such trouble sleeping?"  
  
He didn't answer me for the longest time. He stared at the ceiling with intense concentration and looked as if he were trying to come to a decision. Finally, after maybe five minutes, his posture softened and he let out a sigh.  
  
"Did you ever have a mission that went really bad, Midvalley?"  
  
"Obviously not. I'm still alive. You know the policy as well as I do. 100% success rate. You have to admit it keeps us on our toes. Don't tell me that you got a special break because your dad is Chapel the Evergreen?"  
  
Nick uttered a short bitter laugh. "A special break. That's a good one," he said and he stared off into space again and I began to be concerned that he wouldn't tell me what troubled him, so I apologized.  
  
"I'm sorry for the sarcasm, Nick. Tell me about the mission."  
  
He sighed lightly and began to speak.  
  
"You don't attend the academy without hearing Chapel the Evergreen lecturing about the need to make a choice in the limited time available. He also believes in selecting the right tool for the job."  
  
"I heard that from him at least once a day for years."  
  
"Well, when I was about 14, Master Knives' power was being challenged by a very powerful gang leader, named Roland Drake."  
  
"I remember reading about him in the paper, some years back. Go on, Nick."  
  
"Drake was a serious rival. He had money, weapons, men, power, influence, connections, charisma and he was utterly ruthless. Leonof and my father had been conducting surveillance on him for several months, trying to see where his financial assets were hidden and how the security around him might be breached in order to destroy him. Drake traveled with an entourage of up to twenty bodyguards in his immediate vicinity and had around fifty for protection when he was at his home.  
  
Neutralizing Drake was Master Knive's first priority. Using Legato's psionic powers to do the job would have been ideal, but was not considered as he was recovering from surgery at the time. Then there was briefly a plan in place to use Caine the Longshot for a sniper shot on the theory that if you cut off the head you'd kill the whole organization, but it became clear that killing Drake wouldn't solve the problem completely. He had well-trained commanders who were smart and ambitious enough to continue to challenge Knives especially with access to Drake's financial resources. These men were all part of Drake's elite body guard. So the planning went on to find the right tool for the job.  
  
Drake had a wife and daughter. Our organization staged a kidnapping and ransom of them to see if Drake could be worked on that way. When he was contacted by phone, I heard he just laughed and said, 'Kill them and save me the trouble. That bitch couldn't give me a son if her life depended on it.' The wife and child were returned unharmed.  
  
There was one peculiarity that Leonof noticed in the running of the household. Every so often, Drake would hire new household help, boys about my age with my skin coloring, eye shape and body type. Leonof thought he could handle the job of infiltration with a puppet, but it became clear to both Leonof and my father, that the job might require up to a month of on- site preparation and Leonof could not maintain a puppet for that length of time. My father suggested me for the job, because of my fast reactions, ability to improvise and of course, I had the look of the type of boys that he hired. The right tool for the job.  
  
They managed to come up with some blue prints of Drake's house, and ran me through several scenarios and field exercises on the training range. Since I was successful in the training runs, it was decided to go ahead with the plan. An employment agency found me a job working as a houseboy to establish me with some work experience and references. In three months, when Drake had another vacancy, I applied for the job, giving my reason for wanting to quit the job I had, as the pay Drake offered which was substantially more than I was receiving. I just turned 15 when I was called in for the interview.  
  
Drake didn't interview me. One of his bodyguards, a cousin, named Ed Jasper did. He was a fleshy man with sandy hair and too many freckles. It made me feel sick inside the way he licked his lips when he looked at me. He didn't ask me too many questions, just a little about my work experience and whether I had any relatives. He seemed pleased when I said I was an orphan.  
  
He finished the interview saying, "I think you got the job, boy. Of course, Mr. Drake will have the final say-so, but, I think he's going to be really pleased with you. Oh, yeah, completely satisfied."  
  
Jasper stopped off at the house where I was staying. I picked up my belongings and we went to Drake's house. It was a mansion really. Drake was wealthy enough to afford a cloned plant of his own to power the place and he even had a garden.  
  
Drake was out of town, but was expected back in a couple of weeks, which allowed me ample time to get the guards accustomed to my presence, to get acquainted with the house routine, the habits of the body guards, the probable locations of the arms caches and safes.  
  
I had previously arranged with my father and Leonof, a way to exchange information and smuggle in my guns and ammunition. I had to come in with nothing since I knew I would be searched. But Leonof sent in a bird puppet to my window and I sent out a message detailing my requirements. The automatics with silencers arrived over a period of a week, delivered at night to my darkened window, by Leonof's birds.  
  
I met the wife and child, after I'd been there a week. They were back from a visit to September. The wife's name was Rachel and the little girl was named Carlotta, but they called her Charlie. The name I had for the mission was Nicholas Chaplain. The wife seemed to take an instant dislike to me. She had blonde hair, beautiful features, and a brittle manner. As for Charlie, she fell in love with me at first sight.  
  
She was a funny little thing, always into the dirt in the garden. No matter how pretty the clothes her mother dressed her in or how tidy her hair was to start out the day, by the time the day was done, her clothes were covered in dirt, her brown hair was a wild tangle and she looked like a ragamuffin.  
  
"How old was she, Nick?" I asked him.  
  
"About four or five."  
  
"Molly's age?"  
  
"Yes. She followed me everywhere while I did chores and called me Nicky. Whether I was changing bed linen or bringing her mother a meal on a tray to her room or working in the garden, she wanted to be around me. And I was glad for her company because when she was with me, it took my mind off the danger I was in, and Drake's bodyguards tended to leave me alone.  
  
Before Charlie came, there were a couple of guards who couldn't seem to keep their hands off me, taking every opportunity to search or touch me. I acted meek so I wouldn't arouse their suspicion, but I was beginning to feel violent. One day the two of them cornered me in the laundry room. One was running his hands over my ass and the other was trying to unbutton my pants when Ed Jasper walked by.  
  
"Karl! Whitey! Keep your hands off him or I will fucking cut them off. Don't you two have brains at all? You know Mr. Drake doesn't like to share."  
  
"His ass is so sweet though. We could all fuck him now and Mr. Drake would never know."  
  
"Keep your hands off his sweet ass. Drake likes them untouched. He has ways of knowing. Go on, get out of here, Chaplain."  
  
I was beginning to get the idea of what lay in store for me when Drake arrived, and deep down inside, I was sick with horror. I began to see why Rachel acted like she hated me. She was jealous that I would be her husband's fuck toy. If only she knew how much I loathed the idea.  
  
It was such a relief when Charlie was around. On time off from my duties, I would read her stories from a big picture book. Sometimes we'd play catch. Within three days of meeting me, she told me I was her best friend. Within a week, she told me she wanted to marry me. I told her it was the best offer I ever had.  
  
I was beginning to be worried for her safety though. All my weapons were in place and Drake was due back in two days. If my intuition was on target and I didn't act quickly, I knew Drake was going to rape me, possibly the night of his return. I hoped to find a way to get Rachel and Charlie out of there before the gunplay started.  
  
The next morning, Mrs. Drake came to me and asked me to help her get ready for a trip. She was going to take Charlie to visit her grandmother the same day that Mr. Drake returned from his business trip. I packed the suitcases for her and Charlie with a feeling of relief.  
  
The morning of Drake's arrival, Jasper made special point of telling me that I should clean myself up extra well, dress very sharp and be in the driveway when Mr. Drake's limousine arrived. Charlie came out with me to meet her dad. The driveway was filled with bodyguards milling around, when the ironwork gate opened and a long, sleek black car slid in and came to a stop.  
  
Jasper opened the limo door and a tall well-built man exited the car. He was in his 40's and had cool gray eyes that seemed to measure everything. Jasper brought him over to where I was standing and they began to measure me.  
  
"This is your new hire, Nicholas Chaplain, Mr. Drake." I kept my eyes lowered. Jasper said to me, "Look at Mr. Drake, Chaplain.  
  
I raised my eyes and then lowered them as if I was scared. He was about six inches taller than me.  
  
"So are you shy, Nick?" he asked me. He had a nice voice. He took my face in his hands and tilted it up towards him and then left and right, almost caressing it.  
  
I didn't answer.  
  
"Shy," he said as if confirming it to himself. "I like that."  
  
His wife Rachel was watching him touch me.  
  
"I'll just bet you do," she said with acid in her voice.  
  
"Don't you have some place to go?" he said to her in a cold tone, and then returned his attention to me.  
  
"Are you a virgin, Nick?" he asked.  
  
"What's a virgin?" asked Charlie who had stepped up beside me.  
  
"Get her out of here," said Drake with some exasperation "I want you both gone by this evening," he said to his wife.  
  
He waited a moment while Rachel and Charlie began to move toward the house and then he turned to me and took my face in his hands again.  
  
"I asked you a question. Cat got your tongue? Let's see if the cat got your tongue."  
  
He had big fingers and he pushed two of them into my mouth and slid them suggestively in and out, like he was fucking me. I gagged immediately.  
  
"I think I got my answer. A virgin. I like that." He smiled at me. "Take my luggage to my room, Nick. You will be my personal attendant. Your duties start tonight."  
  
I picked up his suitcases and as I turned to leave, I heard him say to Jasper as if he were talking about a thing, "I really like that! Nice work, Jasper."  
  
When I got to his room with the luggage, Rachel was there. She gave me two hard slaps across the face where he had touched me.  
  
"Do you know what he does to his houseboys?" she asked me.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"They get what they deserve," she said with a smile that scared me.  
  
I wanted her out of the house as soon as possible with Charlie, so just to goad her to that point, I said, "So, did you want to watch us then?"  
  
She slapped me again. "I don't need to watch slime like you try to steal my husband."  
  
She left the room. In a couple of minutes, I heard her screaming at her husband. He shouted back. While they were arguing, I hurried downstairs to my room and assembled my weapons and ammo. I had four automatics with silencers and a total of 72 rounds in the magazines. Plus another 4 magazines. They were heavy. I hoped it would be enough to take care of Drake and his 50 bodyguards. There was no way I was going to let any of them lay hands on me again.  
  
The shouting stopped and now I heard him slapping her hard. Rachel started screaming again, this time in pain. I heard Charlie wail low and mournful. Suddenly, it got very quiet. I heard the front door slam and heard the sound of the limousine engine revving into life. I looked out the window and saw Rachel and Charlie were in the vehicle that was pulling out of the driveway. I breathed a sigh of relief, pulled on the white jacket of my uniform and with my pistols concealed beneath it, walked into the kitchen to wait for Drake's summons.  
  
I heard Drake's footsteps ascending the stairs and heard his voice calling for me, "Nicholas, I need you in my room."  
  
The bodyguards in the dining room laughed and jeered at me as I made my way to the steps. "Nicholas, I need you in my room," they mocked me and acted out a butt-fucking for their own amusement and Whitey who could never keep his hands off me grazed my crotch where I had a magazine concealed, with his palm. "Oh, you got a hard-on for Drake. This boy's got a hard-on for Drake." That was a close call.  
  
My nerves were tight, but Charlie was gone and it was time for me to go to work. I had an automatic hidden at my side when I came into Drake's room. He was sitting naked on the bed. I put three bullets through his brain, pushed his body back onto the bed and went on to the next room.  
  
The next five minutes seemed to pass by in slow motion. I remember each twist and turn and roll and dive I made. I remember my own awful fear as I turned the door knob of each room not knowing what lay behind it, but fast and accurate, my pistols spit death , faces blanked and bodies fell. I made my way from room to room. I was surprised by a guard exiting the bathroom. He pulled his gun out and fired at me, but I ducked, twisted and shot him right between the eyes. The report from his weapon roused the house. I could hear sounds of alarm downstairs. My element of surprise was gone. From here on out it was going to be down and dirty. I discarded two of my pistols and held the remaining two, one in each hand.  
  
In a headlong rush down the staircase, I took out eight guards with a high volume of automatic fire, then I rolled under the grand piano in the drawing room and killed five men in less time than it takes to say it. I dropped another pistol and popped a magazine into the only one I had left. Two shot-gun blasts punched through the dining room door, but I was out of the line of fire. I willed myself to action and dove and pushed through the swinging door, my finger a blur on the trigger and killed 10 in the dining room. Then there were six left alive in the kitchen, and then moments later six dead, arterial blood pumping out onto the black and white tiles. I remember the look of surprise on Jasper's face. I slid another magazine into my automatic.  
  
My senses heightened, I pushed through the swinging door back into the dining room, and someone shot me. I fired three times before I even saw my target. It was Rachel that I shot. She was in the doorway with a gun in her hand. Her body jerked spasmodically. She opened her mouth like a fish gasping for air as if she had something to say, but she only coughed up blood. The light went out of her eyes and she collapsed, Midvalley."  
  
Nick stopped speaking, and all of a sudden through our link, I felt his emotion. First I felt a sensation of piercing pain in my chest and then an overwhelming desolation, a grief as deep and dark as I feel when I play Silvia to kill. If I'd been playing Silvia, the power of that pain would have taken out a city block. As it was, weeping was my only relief. Tears rolled down my face and sobs shook my body. I was in agony, and the waves of pain that washed over me went on and on. I lost track of time and place and only began to come back to myself when I felt Nick's trembling lips on mine, our faces wet with tears, his arms around me seeking desperately to give me comfort. His eyes were full of concern for me.  
  
"What is it, Midvalley? Am I hurting you? Please don't cry. I love you so much."  
  
And he did. I could feel that through our link as well, and I cried even harder at the fears that prevented me from responding in kind. But he surrounded me with his loving feelings until my tears dried. And then when I recovered enough, I felt the need to hear him finish his story.  
  
"You killed Charlie, didn't you, Nick?" I said softly.  
  
"It was an accident," he sobbed. I put my arms around him and hugged him to me while he vented his grief and I found myself weeping again for his pain was so great. When we were calm again, some time later, he continued the story.  
  
"When Rachel fell, I saw Charlie lying on the floor with a small hole in her forehead where the bullet that killed her went in. My bullet.  
  
I locked the door of the house behind me and walked the six miles back to the Academy in a daze. I rang the doorbell and fainted or so they told me.  
  
My father came in after the doctor patched up the wound in my shoulder.  
  
"Well?" he asked.  
  
"Drake's dead. They're all dead. The money is in two safes. One in his room and one in the wine cellar. There's a weapon's cache in the garden shed, and another in the cellar and a third in a hidden room in the attic."  
  
"You did well, Nicholas. I knew you wouldn't let me down."  
  
They sent a team over to acquire the arms and money. They verified what I reported. My father was over the moon with what I had done. Knives and Legato were impressed as hell.  
  
As for me, the wound in my shoulder got infected. I couldn't keep food down and was losing weight. I suffered from nightmares so disturbing that I tried not to sleep. It was always the same dream. Whitey, Karl, Mazarov and Drake take turns fucking me while Rachel watches and laughs and just when Drake is almost through with me, he starts to choke me with his big hands. Just when I'm almost dead, Charlie comes to me and tugs on my pant leg and looks up at me with the hole in her head and the trail of blood leaking and asks me why I hurt her.  
  
One of the nurses taking care of me was a nun. After I woke from another nightmare screaming, she took me in her arms, and told me she knew I had too much of a burden to carry by myself. She promised not to tell anyone if I told her what happened. So I did. She gave me some advice about restitution that helped me, and that's when I decided to become a priest and asked my father to send me out to December to enter the seminary. I don't think he wanted me to go. I guess he wanted to bask in my reflected glory for a while. But while I was half-sleeping I overheard the nun talking about me to him.  
  
"Your son is a wreck, Mr. Chapel," she said. "He is skin and bones. His wound won't heal. He can't keep down food. He can't sleep because of the nightmares. He is having a nervous breakdown from what he went through. I think he can get some peace of mind if you allow him to let him study for the priesthood in December and give him some time to try to make sense of what happened to him. You sent out a boy to do a man's job and these are the consequences. Take a good look at him. Your son is dying. Do you really want him to die? Then by all means, keep him here and send him back to your precious academy. The choice is yours."  
  
Officially, the mission was a great success and I think my dad pulled some strings, so I was graduated early on the strength of it and sent off to December. But to my way of thinking, it was a mission that went bad, and it's why I have trouble sleeping sometimes, Midvalley. Molly's death brought the memories of Charlie back.  
  
"I hope you can let these feelings go, Nick. The deaths were accidents. You should forgive yourself. It really hurts me to see you in so much pain."  
  
"I could feel that. I didn't know that you would feel my pain through the link. Can't you turn it off?"  
  
"When I'm playing Silvia, I can't link. If the emotional connection is weak, I can protect myself, but if the emotional connection is strong, the way it is with you, for good or ill, I feel what you feel."  
  
"Then you know how I feel about you."  
  
"When I look at myself in the mirror, I'm okay with what I see there. It's nothing to write home about, but I've seen myself through your eyes and I know you think that I'm a lot better looking than I do. You look at me like I'm something special."  
  
"Ah, you're nuts, Middie. You are special."  
  
"There's something else about the link, Nick. Sometimes, my empathic gift acts as a kind of lightning rod for emotion, and I can release the excess charge and there's a healing effect. Time will tell."  
  
After the intensity of the emotions with which we started the day, the rest of the day felt easy. Chapel's arm wound was almost healed. We ate well, sat in cafes, watched people passing and held hands. I checked out a couple of saloons, taverns and a music store, to find out if there was any music happening.  
  
I was struck by a strong urge to play, and found a gig with a guitarist and a drummer I heard rehearsing at the Lucky Sparrow Saloon. I went back to our room and picked up Silvia and went back to practice with them for a while. While I was practicing, I started to get an idea for a new song, so I wrote down some of my improv ideas and by the time the afternoon had blended into night, I had finished a tune I called "Troubled Sleep."  
  
Nick was surprisingly relaxed. When we got home late that night, we fell in bed together, feeling a good kind of tired and we both slept peacefully until morning. 


	10. A Reunion

Reunion  
  
The next morning before breakfast, I checked in at the hotel desk for mail and sure enough there was another big envelope from headquarters. Chapel was splurging this morning and actually ordered some bacon and eggs in addition to his black coffee. I was pleased to see that he had an appetite and at least for the moment no pressing financial concerns.  
  
The letter we got from headquarters informed us that we were going to be guest instructors at Evergreen's Academy.  
  
Chapel was less than ecstatic about the assignment.  
  
"I need real assignments that will make me some money."  
  
"We get mission pay," I said.  
  
"I bet we don't get hazard pay."  
  
"As a matter of fact, I think there is some available if you end up instructing at the weapons range. I hate to remind you, but you've got to recall how dangerous Mazarov was. One of the worst shots ever. He put out a lot of wild rounds. I'm sure you'll be wanted on the weapons range, so you'll get hazard pay for sure."  
  
"But no bonus potential, I bet."  
  
"You surely take the money end of it seriously. It's supposed to be enjoyable."  
  
"Maybe if hearing confessions paid as well as music gigs, I could afford to be offhand about it. But I have debts that have to be paid. Is there a bonus available?"  
  
I passed him the paperwork. "There's a lot of fine print in there. You're welcome to read it. I seem to recall I got a bonus a few years back when a certain percentage of the class that I instructed did well in the final exams. Headquarters really treats this as seriously as a mission."  
  
"I guess it might be okay then," he said grudgingly.  
  
"Is there something else about it that bothers you?"  
  
"I don't like the idea that I'm training the next generation of killers. I don't want other kids having to grow up like I did."  
  
I sighed. "God, Nick. I don't know where you come up with this crap sometimes. This assignment isn't a request. It's a command performance. You went to the school and you know damned well that the fundamental truth of our lives is kill or be killed. If that bothers you with the students, concentrate on the fact that you are teaching them valuable survival skills. Do you think we could have survived this long without our training?"  
  
"Probably not," he acknowledged.  
  
"Master Knives is a great man. I've never lost sleep second-guessing myself about whether to obey his orders. It seems to me that on every mission we've been on, everyone we killed needed killing. Damn, Chapel. You're the best partner I've ever had, but the way you talk about the job sometimes gets me concerned."  
  
"You don't love the job, either, Midvalley. I've seen you happy and I know what makes you happy and it's not the job. It's the music."  
  
The music and you I wanted to say, but I had a couple of thoughts in my mind about the two of us that worried me a little.  
  
"Nick, I know this job will be the death of me someday. I like to think that with your luck, you'll live forever. But the odds are against us. I've been a guest instructor before and I enjoyed it. Try to have a good attitude about it.  
  
It was a pity that Chapel was in such a negative mood, because I sensed he was going to react even worse to my next suggestion. I tried to ease into it gracefully  
  
"The last time I was there, I hung out with Dominique and got to know her pretty well. By the way, she had an interesting piece of gossip about Caine."  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"What makes you so sure Caine's a he?"  
  
"What? You've got to be kidding!"  
  
"Dominique told me he's a she. I couldn't tell if she was yanking my chain or not."  
  
"What about his voice?"  
  
"Think about it. It's not a high voice, but it isn't a deep voice either. And Caine doesn't waste words."  
  
"Come to think of it. I've never seen him take a leak."  
  
"Neither have I. A hard person to get to know.  
  
"Now you've got me wondering. Never thought of it that way before. I always assumed. I wonder what she looks like under the mask."  
  
"I don't know. I used to think he was hiding a bad case of acne. Dominique tells me she's really shy but has phenomenal powers of concentration."  
  
"Yeah, that's important in a sniper. Is it supposed to have some deeper meaning?"  
  
"Just that she also has the ability to concentrate sexually."  
  
"And I still don't get it."  
  
"Well maybe you would if she was concentrating on blowing you. Aren't you in the least bit curious about how they are in the sack? I think Dominique likes you. She thought that Caine might enjoy spending some time with me."  
  
"Midvalley!" Nick went pale and shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He looked like he wanted to say something, but just sighed, and stared into space.  
  
"I've told you before, Nick, I want you to get some experience with different sexual partners, and it might be a good thing to try out your new skills with Dominique. She's good in bed if you slow her down."  
  
"I think this is more about what you want than what I want," he said.  
  
I was handling things badly today with Nick and I knew it and wondered what I would say to alienate him next. I could sense he was a little bit sad and upset as he always became whenever I even hinted at the possibility that he or I might have sex with someone else.  
  
"I've told you before, my sex life is complicated. I have a past at the academy. There are going to be expectations."  
  
Though he didn't say anything I could tell through the link that this just upset him more.  
  
"Don't let this ruin things between us. You know I have strong feelings for you." I reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze. He returned it a little reluctantly, but he did return it.  
  
"When do we have to be at the academy?"  
  
"Three days. There are a couple of sand steamer tickets in the envelope. They also arranged transport for your motorcycle. We leave this afternoon."  
  
Chapel pulled out of his funk and the first night of the trip to Epril Town was a lot more fun than he would have guessed since he'd never had sex on a sand steamer before, and the motion it added to ours was a welcome novelty to him. I know I enjoyed it. Almost too much. I had tried to tell to Nick at breakfast, but I wasn't sure how open we could be about our relationship at the academy, but I decided to bite the bullet and broach the subject with him while he was enjoying a post-coital cigarette.  
  
"Nick," I started, "Legato usually spends some time at the academy in the period just before graduation."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Well, you have always seemed to be immune to his mind powers."  
  
"Yeah, so far, so good."  
  
"I just wanted you to know that Legato might be able to link to you through me."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"Hey, don't get so upset, Nick. He would probably only be able to link to you if you and I are having sex."  
  
"Oh, God! And if our track record for the past two weeks is any guide, what are the chances of that? We've been like goddamn rabbits. Can't you turn that link off, Midvalley?"  
  
"I told you when I'm playing Silvia. I had planned to play more music while I was off work at the academy, but I was thinking that the best solution might be to cool our jets for a while. "  
  
"Cool our jets?"  
  
"Not have sex with each other for a while, at least while we're at the academy. I've talked with you before about trying out your skills with a different partner. I think now would be a good time."  
  
"That's the second time, you've brought up the subject today. If you're tired of me and you want to move on, why don't you just come out and say it?" Nick gave a short exasperated sigh, looked around hastily for the ash tray, which was right in front of him, stubbed out the butt he was smoking after one long last drag and started to get dressed rapidly.  
  
"Calm down, Nick. It's not that I'm tired of you."  
  
"That's not what it sounds like," he murmured.  
  
"You don't understand. I just want to keep Legato off the scent. He doesn't need to know everything about my personal business. You don't know what it's like, but Legato could pretty much enter my mind whenever he wanted."  
  
"I understand all right. You had sex with Legato, too and don't want him to know you've been screwing me in case he wants you back."  
  
"That was quite a leap. You know, I'm getting a little sick of your jealousy."  
  
He could tell I was starting to get angry. He didn't like me mad at him, so he apologized.  
  
"I'm sorry, Midvalley. What seems so easy to you is hard for me, but you've been so good to me, I don't want to seem ungrateful. I'll try to do what you want."  
  
"That's good, Nick. A sand steamer is an ideal place for a quick fling. It's the rocking motion," I said with a grin. "I noticed a lot of attractive people on this steamer. I've no doubt there are several who would love to jump your bones or have theirs jumped by you, so have a good time."  
  
"What kind of person should I pick? I've never done this before."  
  
"That's up to you. Surprise me," I said and I chuckled.  
  
He opened the door, turned his head to give me one last look of distress, then stepped out into the passage way and closed the door quietly behind him.  
  
"Well, that went better than I expected," I said to myself. I didn't need my empathy to be able to tell he was still upset, but I was sure he would get over it once he found someone suitable and got down to business.  
  
I went to the lounge and asked the bartender if I could play my sax for a while. He seemed pleased by my request. So, I threw myself into my playing and for the space of an hour lost myself in music. I finally put Silvia down and tested the link with Nick again. He was still brooding. By that time, a small crowd of customers had gathered in the lounge and they were making song requests.  
  
"Play 'Daredevil'" hollered a drunk.  
  
I couldn't play that tune without back-up, but I remembered part of the song I had improvised the day Chapel left town after my accident. So I started to play what I remembered and more started to come back to me. The music flowed out pretty well and the audience seemed to like it. I took a few minutes to write down some of the major themes. A pretty brunette bought me a drink and I had a good time flirting with her. When I was finished with the drink, I played "Silvia's tune" and damned if some of the patrons in the lounge didn't start moving to that sexy number on the tiny dance floor. After that, I played my new song. There was a scattering of applause when I finished and I saw Nick had come in and was sitting with his back to me at one of the tables by the window sipping a beer.  
  
I felt through the link. He seemed almost empty of emotion, neither happy nor sad, just somewhere in between. I was about to pack up Silvia and go sit with him, when a passenger who looked familiar, walked up to his table and smiled at him with perfect teeth. Fuck me! What was Dave the Roadie doing on the steamer? Chapel invited him to sit down in the booth seat opposite him.  
  
I got a request to play "Moons Rise" and swung into it with as much grace as I could muster since I have to admit my curiosity was aroused by what was going on at that table. By any objective standard, Dave was a sexy beast. He was average in height with sandy brown hair and an engaging smile, which he was now flashing at Chapel. He had flirty blue eyes and his skin glowed with health. His body was extremely attractive with nicely broad shoulders, a narrow waist and a beautiful ass that was firmly packed into faded jeans. On my scale of attractiveness from one to ten, I had Nick in at an eleven, but Dave was definitely a 10.5.  
  
They seemed to be hitting it off. Nick bought Dave a drink. After that, Nick bought him another one. Dave reached his hand across the table and touched Nick's hand and left it there. The damned flirt.  
  
The bartender requested me to play "Lip Service".  
  
Dave bummed a cigarette. Nick rose from his seat to light it for him. Their faces were close. Dave took hold of Nick's hand to hold the match steady, then released it and grinned, cocked his head, put the cigarette to his lips, sucked on it slowly while staring at Chapel, then exhaled and licked his lips. Could he be any more obvious? No, Dave the Roadie was definitely lacking in class. No wonder I turned down sex with him.  
  
Nick smiled back at him, one of the high wattage ones that he ought to patent. I hadn't seen one of them myself for a while, and I wondered why Dave the pathetic Roadie rated one. I finished the song, took my lips off Silvia's reed and the audience applauded. Chapel reached across the table to brush away a bit of tobacco that had stuck on Dave's lower lip and I felt a shock of electricity through the link. Why the fuck was I playing "Lip Service" anyway?  
  
I got a napkin with a request written on it. "Cocksure?" No fucking way was I playing "Cocksure." Three customers called out, "Hey, play 'Cocksure'".  
  
"Yeah, play 'Cocksure!'" called out another handful.  
  
"If you wouldn't mind?" asked the bartender.  
  
I sighed in resignation and swung into "Cocksure" while Dave got up from his seat and whispered something in Chapel's ear. Chapel blushed scarlet and laughed. Dave squeezed into the booth seat next to Nick.  
  
I probably never mentioned it before, but "Cocksure" is the raunchiest tune ever written for sax. The intensity and rhythm of the beat, the slick sliding notes, the moans and growls of the sax leading to a crescendo, I've heard the song described as "Sex in a Sax" and I have to say I was doing it justice not that Dave the Roadie seemed to need any inspiration. I never noticed before, but there's something sleazy about him.  
  
Dave was smoking a cigarette and waving his hands around. It looked like Nick was hanging on his every word. Hanging on the words of a moron. I thought Nick had better taste. Half-way through the song where the rhythm really picks up, Dave put the cigarette down and his hands went beneath the table. Chapel blushed again. How could Dave put his hands on him in such a public place? You'd think a priest would at least attempt to avoid causing a public scandal. Dave whispered something in his ear then got up to leave the car. Nick threw down some double dollars to cover his bar tab and followed him out of the lounge. All of a sudden I felt ill.  
  
When I finished the song. I packed up Silvia, ordered a brandy and sat down at the table that Nick had just vacated. The seat was still warm. I felt faint and feverish. The bartender brought over a tip jar that had about $$50 accumulated along with my drink.  
  
"This is what the passengers donated for your music. Come back again and play anytime."  
  
My stomach was queasy. I felt for Chapel through the link. He wasn't broadcasting any emotions I could read, just a generalized excitement. I lifted my glass and took a sip of the liquid fire, but shortly after felt another burning sensation on my lips and I knew that they were kissing. This wasn't like the quick sloppy kiss Dave had planted on Chapel at the Come Back Inn, the night of our last concert. This kiss was long, slow, deep, and teasing. Whoever instigated the kiss, I knew that Nick was deeply involved returning it. I could feel the intensity growing and my groin began to throb. I felt I was going to vomit. I hurried into one of the stalls in the men's room and threw up into the toilet bowl. I felt acid in my stomach, pain in my head, then suddenly, my link with Nick broke and I panicked.  
  
I was worried about him. I had to find him. I lurched into the passageway and hurried along, bumping aside passengers who slowed me down.  
  
I found them still dressed in the baggage compartment of the sand steamer. Nick had pressed Dave against the wall. Mouths locked, they were glued in an embrace so tight there was no space between their bodies. Dave's hands were pressing on Nick's buttocks as if he hoped to pull him even closer. They didn't break the kiss even when the door opened. They never even looked my way. They couldn't hear anything over the sounds of their deep sexual groans.  
  
I was aware of a sensation of terrible pain in my heart. Since Nick and I were no longer linked, I knew it was my own. I closed my eyes and when I heard Nick's passionate moan in the throes of the kiss and heard him say Dave's name and not my own, tears spurted from my eyes.  
  
"Nick, please," my voice broke as I wept and I couldn't finish the sentence, but he heard me and slowly pulled out of the kiss.  
  
Nick's body leaned into Dave's like he owned it, but a tear slid down his cheek and his voice quivered when he said, "This is what you wanted, isn't it, Midvalley?" He kissed Dave deeply again and Dave kissed him back. The fevered kiss went on, their two perfect mouths caught in a perfect kiss and I was in hell.  
  
I heard the steamer door open and looked to see who had come in. It was Lenny. He saw Dave and Nick locked in the tight embrace and passionate kiss and started to sob. "Please forgive me, Dave. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I'm begging you, Dave. Don't do this. I need you."  
  
Dave looked Nick in the eye, ever so gently nudged him aside and sank down against the wall in a crouch and put his head on his knees. He was overcome with tears.  
  
Nick made no move towards me, but slid down the wall and put a comforting arm around Dave's shoulders though his haunted eyes stayed on mine the entire time.  
  
After Dave recovered himself, he hugged Nick, got up and walked tentatively over to Lenny, who enveloped him in hungry arms. Dave looked almost happy like he'd found a home again, but Chapel had fixed me with his deep blue eyes and he looked anything but happy. Lenny and Dave were lost in each other's eyes and walked out of the car holding hands.  
  
Nick got to his feet, and began to walk past me. I grabbed hold of his wrist.  
  
"Wait, Nick. Please."  
  
"You once told me that it hurt too much to be around me, Midvalley. You told me you were leaving because it hurt too much to play games. I think you're playing a game with me, Midvalley, but it hurts me too much to play along anymore. You know I love you, but you don't feel the same. You say I'm special to you, but then you suggest I find someone else to make love with. Well, I gave you what you want today. Did it make you happy?"  
  
"No," I said softly in a choked voice.  
  
"I guess that makes us even."  
  
He shook his hand loose and tried to brush by me.  
  
I was overcome with sadness at the feeling of rejection. I blocked the way with my body and flung my arms around him.  
  
"Don't you walk through that door," I said, my voice husky with emotion.  
  
"Why should I stay?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I didn't know what I was asking of you. I've never been in love before."  
  
"Do you love me, Midvalley?" he asked wistfully.  
  
"Yes," I whispered my face wet with tears.  
  
"Are you sure you even know what it means?"  
  
"I do now."  
  
"Are you jealous?"  
  
"It's killing me."  
  
"Good."  
  
He cradled my head with his two hands and with a look on his face that spoke of a soul at peace, he gave me a kiss that felt like pure love to me. His kiss tore down every last barrier to him that I had erected in my own heart. It healed my jealous heart and reconnected us. Then he took me back to our compartment and made love to me. And when he finished with me, I'm not ashamed to admit that he owned me, body, heart, and soul.  
  
Later Lenny and I were sitting in the lounge chatting.  
  
"Dave, has too much of a sense of self-worth to put up with my shit anymore.  
  
"Same with Chapel."  
  
"That first fight we had in the club when I hit him? I was cheating on him and he called me on it."  
  
"Did he see us in the alley?"  
  
"I'm sure he did."  
  
"Did you see him kissing Chapel the next night?"  
  
"I definitely saw it."  
  
"Let me guess. You got jealous for the first time in your life."  
  
"You got it, Midvalley. But I still didn't really get it until today."  
  
"Neither did I."  
  
Lenny said," It's like I'm pussy-whipped, but I just don't care. I love him too much not to put up with it. I know he's the best thing that ever happened to me and I never want to screw that up again."  
  
I gave a rueful laugh. "I know exactly what you mean."  
  
"Do you think they got together and set this thing up to make us jealous?"  
  
"I don't think so," I sighed. "Nick doesn't play around like that., but I thought I was immune to jealousy. Acted all righteous about it, but the truth was I was never really in love before. I never realized until tonight how it feels when your lover is unfaithful.  
  
"I'll never forget the sight of them kissing. The memory will probably keep me faithful to my dying day. Damn but they looked good together. I was thinking why would Dave want me when he can have Chapel? But who am I to argue with the luck of the draw. Dave loves me and I thank God I've got him back."  
  
I thought back to the sight of them kissing and felt a strong rush of jealousy again, but took a deep breath and felt for Nick through the link. He felt happy.  
  
Lenny changed the subject.  
  
"I heard you playing in the lounge earlier. I was afraid to come in and greet you because I thought Dave might get jealous. But I heard enough to notice a couple of new tunes that seemed to have your signature all over them. One of them sounded like that one I heard you playing when I found you with your face all banged up.  
  
"Yeah, I remembered more of what I was playing that day. I've been doing a bit of composing again."  
  
"It sounded really good."  
  
"Thanks. I have to admit I was shocked as hell when I saw Dave. I wondered if you were with him. Just what the hell are you doing in these parts, Lenny?"  
  
"I picked up a couple of gigs in Epril Town and I'm looking at a couple of long-term engagements in Mei City. When I arrange the contracts, the rest of the band is going to join me."  
  
"Who are you playing with?"  
  
"The Midvalley Four"  
  
"You mean you managed to pry Dixie, Toby, and Sunny loose from the Come Back Inn? I never thought you could persuade Dixie to leave that town. What are you calling yourselves?"  
  
"The Midvalley Four. Dixie's husband died in a shootout. Innocent bystander. So she's a free agent now and she needs the work. By the way, we're looking for a hot sax player to join the tour. You know anyone?"  
  
"No, I played with a guitarist and a drummer who weren't at all bad over in New Junction. I haven't run into any sax players at all for months, but then I haven't been in any big clubs since the Come Back Inn. I'm pretty much stuck in Epril Town for the next month. If you're free one day at the beginning of the following month, I'd like your band to play a gig with me, if it's at all possible. The academy I attended is going to hold a graduation dance and I was going to put together a band to play music. But if there was a chance to play with you guys, well, it would be beyond great."  
  
"If the pay is right, I think you could persuade us."  
  
"I should be able to come up with some good money. And I'm not guaranteeing anything, but I have a hunch that with a new class graduating, I might have a reduction in my work load and then I would have extra time to play some gigs, maybe even go on some short tours, but don't hold me to it."  
  
I gave him my business card. You can contact me through these addresses."  
  
"Thanks, Midvalley. I really ought to go find Dave."  
  
"Yeah, I think I need to spend some quality time with Nick."  
  
And I did. 


	11. Back to School

Back to School  
  
I slept in Nick's arms all night long. He wasn't bothered by a single nightmare. In the morning, I shared another good breakfast with him in the dining car. Something in him had changed. He still took his coffee black and smoked his cigarettes, but without the deep sense of urgency that usually seemed to drive his behavior. He seemed more confident. I liked seeing him like this.  
  
Over breakfast, he told me that if I felt that we ought to "cool our jets" at the academy, it was fine with him. He'd been celibate for years and a month without was surely not going to kill him. He seemed to have regained his sense of humor in a way that I hadn't seen in him since he was a kid. I hadn't realized in what a limbo of misery my undeclared feelings had placed him. But now feeling sure of my love, Nick relaxed and was funny, tender and charming.  
  
We arrived in Epril Town the next morning around eight o'clock. Nick rode his motorcycle to the school. I took a taxi and we were assigned to rooms in the faculty billets. We had a day to settle in and Chapel's classes were to start early the next morning. As I predicted, he was scheduled for the weapons range. Since the heat from the sun is oppressive on the weapons range after mid-morning, most of those classes are held early which suited him fine.  
  
The school makes an effort to accommodate the sleep habits of its instructors. Out of consideration for mine, my earliest class was scheduled for eleven in the morning. Chapel the Evergreen joked to me in his dry serious way that he supposed I would be more comfortable teaching at midnight but hoped that I would make an accommodation because some of them had to be out on the weapons range early. I assured him I would.  
  
I met Nick for lunch at the dining facility after his first day at the range. He had either forgotten or never knew that instructors meals were free. He had also found out that he was going to get four times as much mission pay than he thought. He thought he would get flat pay for a month and instead, each week would be counted as one mission. In between bites of pasta marinara, he was calculating on a piece of paper, adding up all the money he was saving on meals, then adding it to another column with mission pay and hazard pay.  
  
"It's still not enough, Midvalley. I wish being a priest paid better. Hell, I wish this job paid better."  
  
"You'd be okay if you didn't have such big debts. I know it's not my place to say so, Nick, but you really shouldn't gamble if you're so bad at it," I said after I swallowed a spoonful of cream of salmon soup.  
  
"You're absolutely right, Midvalley. I'll keep that in mind the next time I get the urge to buy a lottery ticket," he laughed.  
  
"So, how was weapon's range. You're laughing so it couldn't have been too bad."  
  
"Laughing to keep from crying."  
  
"Come on. How was it really?"  
  
"A mixed bag. Those boys from Randall City, well, a couple are more than just pretty faces. The leader, Bernie Welch, is decent with a rifle or a handgun. His buddy, Ned Pitts, has got the nerves and eyes of a sniper."  
  
"Which one was he, the tall, lanky quiet kid with the pony tail?"  
  
"That's him."  
  
But Ben Evans, the pudgy one, should never be allowed to touch a weapon again. With weapons he's a real no-hoper. I heard he's a heck of a good Tomas wrangler, but the red-headed boy, Jake Berkis, it's like he was born with a shotgun in his hand.  
  
"Must have been hard on his mother."  
  
"Talk about hard on his mother-- have you seen Grey the Nine Lives, Midvalley?"  
  
"I have, and that thing never had a mother."  
  
"If it did, Leonof was the mid-wife."  
  
"Was he/it, whatever it is, any good on the weapons range."  
  
"Well, the first time he shot, he put about 100 rounds into six targets in about two seconds. You can imagine what the targets looked like after that."  
  
"I take it there wasn't much left."  
  
"You got it. So I had to walk 100 yards down the range and replace all the targets. It took about half an hour and the rest of the students were wandering around like idiots. When I got back I told him just shoot one bullet at a time. I don't know what he has for brains but he did the same thing again. So down-range I go again to set up six more targets. When I got back from changing the targets the second time, I didn't want to be doing it again, so I told him I passed him, gave him an "A" and told him he didn't need to come back. I swear if he shows up again tomorrow, I gonna kick his big ass off my range."  
  
"Ooh, sounds like it almost got a little ugly."  
  
"Oh, it got plenty ugly all right. There's another student, he calls himself E.G. Mine. He invented his own weapon system. I'll admit it has lethal potential, but I saw a couple of design flaws. I tried to point out that a really quick opponent could disable his triggering mechanism and body armor. He seemed to think I was full of hot air."  
  
"What makes you think so?"  
  
"I got that impression when he said, 'Blah, blah, blah, you are so full of hot air, chickenshit."  
  
"That's some major disrespect. You ought to find some way to take him down a notch."  
  
"Hey, I've been giving it some thought. Speaking of disrespect, there's another kid, Zazie, kind of reminds me of myself at that age. He's a natural marksman. That really can't be taught, but he's also a cocky son of a bitch and annoyed the hell out of me. Complained out loud to all the other students out there how badly I handled Grey, but I'm not worried about it. How did your first class in planning and tactics go, Midvalley?"  
  
"It was good, Nick. All the students had copies of the mission debriefings I write and post back to headquarters after we complete a mission and a copy of the one you filed when I got the head wound," I snickered.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Yours was a lot shorter than mine. My reports generally run about 5 pages. Yours was more like five sentences. "Destroyed targets with rocket launcher. Recovered funds deposited in bank. Partner sustained head injury. Estimated healing time, one month. Questions, call or wire Plaza Hotel."  
  
"Hey, all the information is there!"  
  
"I'm not arguing that. I'm thinking of copying it. This job takes way too much of my time as it is. I learned how to write reports from Leonof, and that guy is an anal-retentive control freak. It never occurred to me to write reports any other way. I could play a four-hour gig in the time it takes me to write a report. How long did it take you to do yours, Nick?"  
  
"Maybe five minutes, but that's stretching it."  
  
".I don't want to spend any more time on four hour reports."  
  
"Who all was in the class, anyone from my weapons class?"  
  
"No, but I expect I'll have the pleasure of their company this afternoon. Called you chickenshit, did he? You've got to teach that guy some manners. By the way, there's going to be a special assembly in the meeting hall around 3 PM."  
  
"My father told me to be sure to be there. Wonder what it's about?"  
  
At 2:45 in the afternoon, the 50 odd students, and some of them were very odd, showed up for the assembly. At three sharp, Chapel the Evergreen, stood at a podium in front of the group, and made a speech.  
  
"For several years in our classrooms, here at the academy, the facts of the Roland Drake mission have served as both education and inspiration. There is no one in this room who is unaware of the seemingly overwhelming odds that our agent in place faced. I am sure that even a new student could recite the order of the hits. Mr. Bernie Welch, can you recite the order of the hits?"  
  
Bernie got up. "Master Bedroom, Drake shot 3 times in the head. Down the hallway to the guard room, 8 bodies, 5 head shots, 3 heart shots. Guest bedroom. Two bodies. Two guards humping two head shots."  
  
There were snickers when he said that.  
  
He continued.  
  
"Upstairs den. Six bodies, 4 head shots, 1 heart shot, 1 gut shot. Second bedroom. Four bodies, four head shots. By the upstairs guest bathroom, one body shot right between the eyes. First floor, eight in the downstairs hall 4 head shots, 3 heart shots, one gut shot, five in the drawing room, two head shots, 3 heart shots, ten in the dining room, five body shots, 5 head shots and six in the kitchen, 4 head shots, 2 body shots. Total 51 dead in 5 minutes."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Welch. You are correct. Up until now, the identity of the student who accomplished this mission has been kept secret, but now that he is among us again, we want to take this opportunity to honor him."  
  
I saw Nick make a face and roll his eyes. "Chapel, will you please come up to the podium?" his father asked.  
  
A murmur arose as Nick walked to the front of the room.  
  
"Students, allow me to present to you the man who single-handed carried out the Drake hit. This is Nicholas Wolfwood, known to you as Chapel."  
  
Spontaneous applause rang out. Most of the students were standing, clapping fervently for what they considered an amazing feat. Zazie and E.G. Mine, I noticed were still sitting, both with sour looks on their faces. The applause went on for quite a while. I clapped for him too. Even though, I knew how much the mission had cost him emotionally, I had always admired the courage that I knew it had taken. I was partnered with a legend, and I was a little in awe of him myself.  
  
Chapel the Evergreen turned to Nick, and asked, "Will you say a few words to the class?"  
  
Nick seemed a little uncomfortable, but he shrugged it off and began to speak.  
  
"It's hard to know what to say about a mission that didn't work out as planned. I wasn't scheduled to carry it out for a couple of days, but due to circumstances, I was forced to improvise. I am surprised that an effort is made to teach what I did. The truth is that it was all based on spontaneous instinct, and I sincerely doubt that what I did can be taught. That's all I have to say."  
  
The Evergreen said, "Thank you. You may sit down now."  
  
Nick sought out a chair next to me. He appeared nonchalant, but I could tell that the attention was distressing him a little.  
  
"You see that in addition to his unmatched talents as a gunman, he is also modest. What he fails to grasp is that the greatest lesson from the Drake hit is that it inspires us with the sense of what can be achieved by a single individual. One day perhaps one of you students will surpass this achievement and it will be a great day for the academy. But in the meantime, let us take this opportunity to congratulate one of our own."  
  
"One of our own!" I heard Zazie fuming out in the hall just after the assembly. I glimpsed out the door of the classroom where Nick and I would be conducting yet another class on planning and tactics. My fourth of the day. Zazie was holding his audience spell-bound, an audience of one, E.G. Mine.  
  
"The only reason we had that assembly," he went on, " is because Chapel is Chapel the Evergreen's son. It's pathetic the way that old man tries to promote such a mediocrity. Chapel's only talent is that he can shoot a gun. Little girls learn to shoot on this planet. How does that make him special? If you want talent, take a look at Dominique the Cyclops, She can shoot too, but she's got psionic powers. She can teleport and hypnotize, plus she's got a hot-looking body. Even that faggot, Midvalley the Hornfreak is cooler than Chapel. That sonic wave he generates is awesome. But he uses mind power. That's what Chapel lacks."  
  
"I can control insects and animals with just the power of my mind. Chapel is nothing."  
  
Chapel and I couldn't help overhearing this, Zazie was talking pretty loud.  
  
"I wonder what he's got against me. I have to admit that my father lays it on a little thick, sometimes. It reminds me of my student days when his bragging about me got me into trouble with Mazarov's gang. I could have done without the assembly."  
  
"Be as modest as you want, Nick. It doesn't take away from the fact that the Drake hit took a lot of courage."  
  
"I was scared to death the entire time."  
  
"My point exactly, scared to death but you did it anyway. If that's not the definition of courage, I don't know what is. Zazie's jealous and E.G. Mine is peeved because you criticized his weapon's system and he took it personally. As far as I can see, everyone else respects you fine."  
  
"Funny about Mine, whatever I say to him, he wants to do the opposite," said Nick.  
  
"I just got an idea. I think I'll have the cook make up a little plum and cactus pie for lunch tomorrow."  
  
The next day after Chapel had finished with weapons range and I had finished my first couple of classes, we met for lunch in the dining facility. Everyone breaks for lunch at the same time. The guest instructors often sit at the same tables as the students supposedly to answer any questions that might occur, but more in an effort to keep food fights and other juvenile pranks to a minimum.  
  
Chapel and I sat at the same table. We each had a bowl of udon with smoked salmon and a slice of plum and cactus pie. The pie was delicious as always, but no one should ever have more than one slice. Two slices has been known to lead to digestive repercussions. E.G. Mine was at our table. Nick and I were making a point of enjoying our pie.  
  
"God, that's good pie, Chapel," I enthused, partly for Mine's edification.  
  
"I haven't had pie this good since I left school," he said, "but no one should have more than one slice."  
  
"Who says?" piped up E.G.  
  
"I do," said Chapel. "It's common knowledge."  
  
"If you know it, it must be common," the student sneered back.  
  
"Most students your age can't handle any more than one slice."  
  
"As it happens, I am very mature for my age and I am certainly going to have a second slice."  
  
"But it's not good for you. Don't have another slice," said Nick.  
  
"You're a little slow on the uptake, Chapel," said Mine is a condescending tone. "I guess it hasn't dawned on you, yet, that I don't care what you say. When you insulted my weapon, you insulted me. Master Legato is very impressed with the weapon. And you are not. He is a gifted genius and you are not. Let me see, who should I believe? Oh, yeah, that's right. Not you." So, Mine went back to the dessert counter for a second slice, that he ate with great relish.  
  
Right after lunch the last two classes of the afternoon were held. E.G. Mine was in a high good humor in the first class and passed notes back and forth with Zazie during that whole period. During the last class, E.G. lost his smile and began showing signs of inner turmoil. Chapel was just explaining the effect of the rocket launcher on the armored car in New Junction, when Mine's stomach gurgled and the sulfur smell of a serious fart spread in a wave from his vicinity. His hands began to twitch.  
  
"Mr. Mine," I said with some urgency, "You need to leave at once and deal with your problem."  
  
I could just imagine him going into the throes of diarrhea with his twitchy hands on his projectile release chords. One serious hand twitch and he could kill the lot of us. For once he didn't argue, but exited the room with frantic mincing steps.  
  
I was pretty sure I knew what was going to happen when Mine finally made it, God willing, into one of the bathroom stalls. Nick looked at me, and mouthed counting down five, four, three, two, one, then made a hand gesture imitating an explosion and at that moment there a terrifically loud thunk as about 100 of the projectiles from E.G. Mine's weapon suit hit the inside of the stall.  
  
"That was a very bad noise," said Nick in the muffled, half strangled tone that I knew signaled imminent uncontrollable laughter in him and he hurried from the room. I followed on his heels with the same feeling bubbling up in me and when we felt we were far enough from the classroom, we doubled over, we died, we killed ourselves laughing. Tears were running down our faces.  
  
"Someone should go check on him," I managed to say through clenched teeth before I lost it again.  
  
"I'll go," said Nick with a snicker. "This I've got to see."  
  
"If you put it that way, let's both go."  
  
We went into the bathroom. The stench was deafening and the door of one of the stalls had been heavily dented from the release of the projectiles from Mine's spike thrower.  
  
"Are you in here, E.G. Mine?"  
  
"Uh, yes," he answered from behind the damaged door.  
  
"Are you feeling ill. When you didn't come back to class we started to worry, especially after that loud noise. Do you feel well enough to join us again?"  
  
"Uh, I'm, uh, stuck in the stall and I can't get out."  
  
"Why, what happened?"  
  
"Somehow, my weapon went off and there isn't enough clearance in the stall with the spikes jammed into the metal sides."  
  
"I guess I can go get the janitor and see if he can dismantle the partition."  
  
"Can someone please bring me a change of clothes? These ones got, uh, damaged."  
  
"It smells pretty bad in here. Did that extra slice of pie make you crap your tights?" asked Nick, who couldn't resist rubbing it in.  
  
"It wasn't the pie, dammit!"  
  
"If you say so," he answered.  
  
We left the room. When we got into the hallway, Nick said, "Let's send his classmates over to lend him some moral support. He's been through such an ordeal, I'm sure they'll be very sympathetic as young men that age are." 


	12. Paintballs and Blueballs

Paintballs and Blue Balls  
  
The next week, E.G. Mine kept a very low profile in class ,but to make up for it, Zazie stepped up his offensive on Chapel during a Planning and Tactics class.  
  
"I read several archived newspaper accounts of the Drake execution and I am a little confused," he said. "The academy account lists 51 found dead, but the papers report 53. Did you murder Drake's wife and daughter, Chapel?"  
  
I wondered how Nick would respond. He had harbored guilt feelings for so many years, but he said, "I shot Mrs. Drake in self-defense. It was an accident that one of the bullets passed through her and hit the child."  
  
Zazie seemed a little disappointed by Chapel's admission. I guess he was hoping to catch Nick in some kind of deception. His next accusation concerned the little girl, Molly, in New Junction.  
  
"When you ran to save the little girl, I hope you realize that you were endangering the mission. Pretty irresponsible behavior. What were you thinking?" asked Zazie.  
  
Chapel responded, "I was thinking that Master Knives was angry with the Crimson Blade gang for interfering with his town. Their indiscriminate slaughter of citizens was disruptive. I thought that if one of Knive's representatives were to go out of his way to help one of their citizens, as a show of good will, it would do a lot to restore faith in Master Knives, which was somewhat shaken by the audacity of the gangs robberies. Any more comments, Zazie?" Nick asked.  
  
"Well, yes. That report you filed after Midvalley's injury was a joke," sneered Zazie looking around at his classmates for moral support.  
  
"I wasn't trying to impress anyone," said Nick. "I was concerned about my partner's welfare. The report was short, but concise and it covered all the salient points. When you have a reliable partner, or in my case, an outstanding one, you don't want to lose him, which brings me to the subject of today's lesson. Injuries and Illness."  
  
Chapel launched into his lecture with fervor.  
  
"It is sometimes not acknowledged that due to the high death rate from violence on Planet Gunsmoke that there is a high turnover in hospital staff and it can often be difficult to find qualified help. The papers are full of horror stories about applicants falsifying credentials to earn higher wages and you don't want your partner bleeding to death from a gunshot wound because some fake intern is banging a nurse in a therapy room and a real surgeon can't be found. You have to be vigilant and really look out for your partner, especially in a hospital."  
  
Chapel was thorough and knowledgeable on the subject and Zazie wasn't able to get another word in for the rest of the period.  
  
For whatever reason, Zazie stopped challenging Chapel in the classroom, but from the little student gossip I picked up, I heard he was practicing his quick draw constantly and bragging about how he was going to teach Chapel a lesson.  
  
I was in the hall after the last class of the second week ended and heard Zazie say to Nick, "You don't have any special talents. All you can do is shoot a gun and I can do that better than you. I challenge you to a shoot out."  
  
"I wouldn't want to hurt you," Nick said.  
  
"You're just afraid that I'll show you up, chickenshit."  
  
"What is it about this class and that word, Midvalley?" Nick turned to me and asked shaking his head, then he turned back to Zazie and said, "I'm sick of your crap, so how about paint balls out on the range right now, and we'll see who the real chickenshit is."  
  
"Fine," said Zazie. "We'll do it now, just to prove to you what a loser you are and then in front of a crowd later at the end-of-school shoot out. A no-talent like you should be publicly humiliated."  
  
Quite a group of students and instructors went out to the range despite the heat. Caine the Longshot was chosen to officiate the match, and loaded the pistols with paint balls. Chapel and Zazie strapped on their holsters. I watched Zazie practice his quick draw a couple of times. He was really fast and he was laughing out loud.  
  
"I'm gonna leave my mark on you, Chapel."  
  
"Nick," I said, "I hear he's been perfecting his quick draw and working on it every day for over a month. Don't you want to practice at all?"  
  
"Nah, this is fine," he said.  
  
Caine held up a derringer.  
  
"I own you," Zazie jeered at Nick.  
  
Nicholas lit a cigarette and strolled down to take his place. There was some 30 yarz of distance separating the two combatants. The small group of onlookers was quiet. Then Caine's derringer barked and a moment later Zazie's forehead, crotch and each shoulder bloomed a red rose of paint and he dropped to his knees with a squeal.  
  
Chapel holstered his pistol and walked over to Zazie, whose hands were frantically rubbing each area where he'd been struck to try to ease the sting. I could see that Zazie's pistol hadn't even cleared the holster.  
  
Wolfwood took a couple of drags of his cigarette, then threw the butt to the sand and extinguished it with the sole of his right shoe and said, "You might want to work on that quick-draw, Zazie. If you feel that I could give you some pointers, I'd be happy to help you at the weapon range."  
  
Zazie growled in reply.  
  
Wolfwood asked, "Do you need a hand up?"  
  
"Fuck you!" screamed Zazie.  
  
"I'll take that as a no," Nick said, and after pausing to light another cigarette, he went over to a table where Caine and I were sitting, unbuckled his gunbelt with one hand and slid it over to Caine.  
  
Zazie was finally able to stand up. I heard a wheezing sound coming from behind Caine's mask.  
  
"You all right, Caine," I asked.  
  
Caine pointed towards Zazie. My eyes followed the direction of the gloved finger and I threw back my head and laughed. From forehead to crotch, red paint had dripped in a vertical line and from shoulder to shoulder and across the chest where Zazie had frantically rubbed to ease the sting there was a horizontal line. Chapel had marked him with the sign of the cross.  
  
"That turned out better than I expected," murmured Nick. I looked closely at Caine, who was still wheezing and thought I detected maybe a gleam of amusement in the eyes under the mask.  
  
"Brat," was Caine's final word on the subject.  
  
Nick started to walk away. He was headed back to his quarters.  
  
"Wait up, Chapel," I said. He turned and paused while I caught up with him and then we both walked side by side. I heard a flurry of steps behind us and heard a young, urgent voice behind us call out, "Just a minute, Mr. Chapel, sir!"  
  
It was Bernie Welch whose face was glazed over with what I'd call an extreme case of hero worship.  
  
"I just wanted to tell you that having you almost shoot my balls off was the best thing that ever happened to me."  
  
Chapel chuckled, "Just so we're clear on this, I missed them on purpose."  
  
"Right, right, Mr. Chapel, sir. You're the greatest gunman I've ever seen. I just wanted you to know, that that , wow!" he was talking really fast and breathless. "Burns, Drake, weapons range, now this. You're my inspiration. I want to be just like you when I graduate!"  
  
"Thanks for the enthusiasm, Bernie. You could probably find someone better to inspire you but good luck," and Nick held out his hand to Bernie who grabbed it and shook it vigorously as if he could absorb some of Chapel's gun talent through the contact. Finally he let go and said, "Hot damn, Mr. Chapel, sir, oh, sorry for the curse. You are modest, too, just like Mr. Evergreen said." He colored, turned and ran back to where his three buddies were clustered.  
  
Nick turned back towards the billets and sighed, started walking and then got quiet.  
  
"You okay, Nick?" I asked.  
  
"I'm okay. Just bothers me a little. There goes another kid who will never know peace because of me."  
  
"Well, maybe he'll live a little longer."  
  
"Or die a little sooner."  
  
"Stop beating yourself up, Nick."  
  
He moved closer to me and started to slide his arm around my shoulders.  
  
"Hey! Not in public like this," I hissed and quickly stepped away.  
  
"Sorry, Midvalley. I forgot. It's just that I miss being with you a lot more than I thought I would. It was a lot easier being celibate when I didn't know what I was missing."  
  
"I wish you hadn't said that, Nick. It's just going to make things harder on us. I'm going crazy wanting you, but everyone's eyes are on us, and not that many are friendly."  
  
"Come to my room for coffee," he invited me with a hungry look that told me that coffee was the last thing on his mind as we arrived at the instructor apartments. Just as I was about to say yes against my better judgment, the front door of the building opened and Chapel the Evergreen glided down the front steps, his peculiar red eyes alight with recognition.  
  
"Nicholas!" he said, "I was hoping I'd find you here. Good afternoon, Midvalley," he said, acknowledging me. Then he turned to address Nick again.  
  
"Now that classes are over for the week, I was wondering if you could run an errand for me to Mei City. It won't take you too long, just overnight at the most and you'd surely be back and able to rest before classes start up again. You make such good time on your motorcycle, Nicholas. One of our bishops has documents that need to travel in trustworthy hands. I would go myself to pick them up, but Master Legato is expected soon, perhaps this evening, and I want everything in readiness for his arrival."  
  
"I'd be happy to run the errand for you. Midvalley might want to come along if you have no objections. He has musician friends in Mei City that he would like to see."  
  
"That would give me pleasure," I said and turned away a bit to hide the erection that had grown in my pants at the thought of what would really give me pleasure.  
  
"Oh, by all means. Be back before classes and safeguard the documents. Meet the bishop at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning at the Mei City Church. I'm sorry this is such short notice."  
  
"I'm happy to do it," said Nick. "I'll get ready to go now."  
  
I went to my room and packed a few overnight articles. I had mixed feelings about a motorcycle trip. I have never found the idea of exposure to heat, dust, and sun appealing, but this was offset completely by the thought of my arms around Nick as we rode and the sex to follow when we got a hotel room, far out of Legato's telepathic range. In a way, the errand from Evergreen couldn't have been more providential.  
  
When I finished packing, I stepped across the hall to Chapel's room and knocked on the door.  
  
Nick opened the door, pulled me in, took Silvia and my travel bag from my hands and set them on the floor. He closed the door behind him, pulled me to him, covered my mouth with his and gave me a long, hungry kiss that raised my cock and my heart rate.  
  
"We can't," I mumbled and disengaged my lips from his. "Legato." My body had a different agenda, though and unable to control myself, I slid my hot wet tongue into his mouth and kissed him with desperate abandon until my common sense reasserted itself. "Not here. Not now," I moaned as I withdrew my tongue. I rested my forehead against his and braced my hands on his shoulders as if by doing that I could stop us from going through with the act.  
  
But I looked at him and got lost in his eyes, and my lips went back to his as if I was dying of thirst and his lips were water. "We should stop," I groaned as I pulled back a fraction from the kiss but a second later found myself with my lips on his again, tongues tangled, sinking deeper than ever into this passionate communion.  
  
"Legato's not here yet. He's hours away." Nick whispered urgently. "I want to fuck now. Oh, God, please, Midvalley, I want you so bad." His eyes were full of desire for me.  
  
I found it irresistible. "Get some oil or lotion, hurry, Nick," I begged. While he stepped quickly into the bathroom, I struggled to undo the buttons of my suit jacket, but my hands were shaking so hard, that I only got one undone by the time he came out with the bottle in his hand. Just at that moment there was a knock on the door and Nick slipped the bottle into his pocket.  
  
I don't know how we were able to go from unbridled lust to business-as- usual faces in a moment, but we did, looking peaceful as doves. It was Nick's father, Chapel the Evergreen.  
  
"Oh, Nicholas. Just one more thing. I got to thinking that it would be an ideal time to give the Bishop some information that he requested. I could send it by mail, but would feel safer knowing that you handled the transaction. If you could give him this packet of documents when you meet him?" he asked and handed Nick a large envelope.  
  
"Happy to do it, father," said Nick.  
  
"You two try to relax and enjoy yourselves in Mei City. With Master Legato here for the next week or two, you'll want to be well rested, so that we can do our best for him."  
  
Nick nodded, and Chapel the Evergreen turned, walked down the steps and exited the building.  
  
Nick sighed and said, "I want you more than ever, but we might as well go, Midvalley. It looks like we'll never get privacy here. But when we get to Mei City, we are going to finish what we started."  
  
We exited the billets, with our scant luggage in hand, walked down to the area where Nick's motorcycle was parked. After a brief check of the vehicle to see that all was in order, Nick revved the engine into life, I got on behind him and we headed off into the west. It was about four in the afternoon when we left and the suns still had some bite in their teeth, but I buried my face against Chapel's back to try to save my skin from the worst ravages. The first sunset at 5 mellowed the heat and brightness considerably and I began to enjoy the ride more and more as twilight fell.  
  
I had been correct earlier when I thought that having my arms around Nick as we rode would make up for the sun, dust and heat. I can hardly describe the happiness I felt hugging him so close to me and in anticipating the closeness to come in just a few more hours.  
  
We arrived in Mei City at eight and took a room at the Maytime Hotel. Tired and dusty from the four hour road trip, contrary to our expectations, we weren't in the mood for sex, but after we showered and shaved, we went straight to the night club where Lenny's band was supposed to be playing. Midvalley brought Silvia along. Sure enough, when we got to the Desert Queen, which was the name of the night club, The Midvalley Four was the name lit up on the marquee.  
  
It was pretty fancy club. We asked the girl who seated us if the kitchen was open.  
  
"Just sandwiches and whatever you want in the way of liquor," she said.  
  
She took our drink and sandwich order and was back in less than five minutes with both.  
  
"The cook must have known you were coming," she joked as she set down the plates of salmon sandwiches and two bottles of ice cold beer.  
  
"Has the band started yet?" I asked.  
  
"They just finished their first set. Oh, there's the piano lady," she said and pointed out Dixie. Dixie happened to glance in my direction and I waved at her. She gave a double take when she saw me and walked over to our table. She looked like she'd lost about twenty pounds. She was dressed in blue satin and had dyed her hair platinum blonde. She looked good.  
  
"Midvalley, you pervert, stand up and give me a hug. I'm so glad to see you again. You too, Chapel. You're both looking gorgeous as ever. I see you got a little sun today, Midvalley, and you brought Silvia with. Lenny's gonna shit when he sees you.  
  
"You look good, Dixie. Lenny told me about your husband's death. I'm sorry. He was a good man."  
  
"Yes he was. On the plus side, though, I was so depressed that I couldn't eat and lost some weight and then I got the offer from Lenny and the music is helping me get through it. I guess all I need now to make me completely happy is for a crazy sax player to show up and jam with us tonight. Looks like my prayers were answered. Right, Chapel?"  
  
Nick just chuckled.  
  
Dixie's eyes were darting around the room as she talked.  
  
"Hey, Sonny, Toby, come on over and look what the cat drug in," she called out.  
  
Sonny, dressed in blue jeans with a black and blue checked flannel shirt, grinned as he walked over and extended a hand to me. I gave him my hand and he pressed it warmly, "God, it's good to see you again, Midvalley. You too, Chapel."  
  
Toby just stood with his hands in his back pockets stretching his back and grinning. I grinned back. The three were clustered around the table with their backs to the bandstand.  
  
"Hey, guys," Lenny's voice called from up front. "Time for the next set!" When the three turned to go back to the stage, he saw me, and tripped over himself getting down to the table.  
  
"God, Midvalley, it is so good to see you. Can I hug him, Chapel?"  
  
"Not on your life, Lenny."  
  
"Will you let him play at least, Chapel?"  
  
"I don't own him," said Nick.  
  
"Yes, you do," said Lenny.  
  
"Do you mind if I play, Nick?" I asked him.  
  
"You know I love to hear you, Midvalley."  
  
"Can you play this set, Midvalley?" asked Lenny.  
  
"Give me ten minutes or so to finish eating and I'll join you on the third number."  
  
The audience had started to fidget, "I gotta get busy. The natives are getting restless. Ten minutes."  
  
The band played a heavy rocking blues number called "Hell and Damnation". Even with four pieces they managed to sound like five. Dixie played keyboards and had a couple of harmonica breaks. Lenny was working overtime on percussion, his sticks racing over the drums, cymbals, claves, and cowbell. I hadn't heard this tune before, but I liked it a lot and thought about where I might fit Silvia in on rhythm or on a solo break. I looked up from my reverie to see Chapel looking at me with a fond expression in his eyes.  
  
"Eat your sandwich. Drink your beer," he said.  
  
I hadn't made much progress so I began to chew and sip. The tune ended and the audience applauded warmly and the band swung into a slow moody number, "All Night Long Without You" that featured Toby's bass and Lenny's drums to begin, then Sonny played his heart out on this one. I don't know anyone who can pull emotion from a guitar like Sonny. I about broke down in tears, it was that good. Dixie filled in at the end with a short harmonica break and the chords she played were so full of desperate longing, that I actually did break down, when I recalled how close I had come to losing Nick's love.. I looked over at Nick and saw that he was almost as lost in his emotions as I was.  
  
There was a lot quiet applause for that number, not that it was unappreciated, but it had touched the audience on an emotional level. I pulled Silvia from her case, put her strap around my neck and I stepped briskly up to the bandstand as Lenny announced me. To my surprise, there were a lot of whistles, cheers, and wolf calls. I didn't know that there were that many sax fans in Mei City.  
  
I hadn't played much in a couple of weeks, not since the trip on the sand steamer, but Lenny knew I was fresh on "Cocksure", so we played that next. As hungry as I was for Nick, I played the hell out of it with the best band on the planet. Some of the customers got up on the tables and were bumping and grinding to it. A few of the more daring ones removed clothing. Bouncers had to escort them out to let them cool off. We had the audience screaming for more after that. It was a great warm-up for me. I had fun through the rest of the set, but then, making music is what I live for.  
  
I sat down with Nick during the set break. I drank another beer and we held hands under the table. I saw Dave moving around on the stage, adjusting some of the instruments, then he and Lenny stood with their heads together sipping beers and hashing out some technical matters, it looked like. They looked contented.  
  
The next set was like a dream. I lost myself in playing. I almost don't feel as though I played the music. It felt more like it was playing me. The audience was loving us. When I went down to sit with Nick during the set break he just said, "That was beautiful. You are amazing to me. Just one more set, Midvalley. Just one more set and we can be together."  
  
The look he gave me when he said it was full of tenderness. Nick made me feel so good about myself that I went into the last set with a feeling of absolute confidence. During the last set, our band could do no wrong . We could have played "Twinkle, twinkle little star" and the audience would have given us a standing ovation. As it was, it was the band played "Hell and Damnation" again for the encore. I took the sax solo break on it that I had worked out in my mind, and we did get a standing ovation. There was a lot of high-fiving on the bandstand. This band was sharing the love. Dixie, Toby, Sonny and I were hugging. Lenny, of course, was careful to keep his hands and lips off me, not that he looked deprived with Dave's loving eyes on him. That made me think of Nick and how soon I was going to be in his arms again. I glimpsed over at him, and just about crapped my pants.  
  
Legato was sitting next to Nick at the table. I turned to Lenny and said, "Something's come up. I've got to go. My boss is here. Don't come over to the table for any reason."  
  
I was having a hard time focusing. A lot of fans were grabbing at me telling me how great I'd been, but I brushed them off as politely as I could and walked over to our table. My higher mind was trying to figure out why Legato was here at all and my animal brain was still trying to figure how to bone Nick despite Legato's presence. The minute I realized how absolutely out of the question that was, everything fell into place and I knew how I had to behave.  
  
"Master Legato," I greeted him.  
  
"Midvalley," he greeted me back in his velvety voice. "Surely we can skip the formalities this evening as we are old schoolmates, no? I was just commenting to Chapel here that you're a rather handsome man. Wasn't I, Chapel?"  
  
Nick nodded.  
  
"But don't you think, Chapel, that when he is playing the horn that he transcends his genetic inheritance and takes on an exceptional, almost ethereal beauty? What? You've nothing to say, Chapel? Ah. The vow of chastity keeps your mouth closed and your lips to yourself. Or does it? But you need not answer. Sit down, Midvalley. Are you either of you hungry? You both look very hungry to me, but I see empty plates at the table. Perhaps what you ate didn't satisfy your hungers. I persuaded the staff to open the kitchen again.  
  
But let's talk a while first. It has been so long since I saw either of you, but I think it is as I thought it was. Yes, when I recognized the motorcycle outside, I said to myself, Midvalley must have come with Chapel." He gave special emphasis to the word "come" and I got a fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach.  
  
"I asked him for a ride," I said.  
  
"That's amusing, Midvalley. I like a motorcycle myself, but somehow never pictured you as the type. Did you enjoy the ride?" he chuckled with special emphasis on the word "ride". He was toying with me. I feared that all that I could expect from him this evening was an inquisition. He suspected our intimacy.  
  
"You're both so tongue-tied this evening. And Midvalley, your face is a little red. You're usually so pale. How did you get that color in your cheeks? It's a dead give away," he said and paused for a few moments.  
  
"It must have been very hard, for you to hold onto Chapel for so long, Midvalley. Tell me how hard it was.  
  
Did Midvalley fall asleep on you, Chapel? That could be very dangerous you know."  
  
I looked up sharply.  
  
"On the motorcycle, of course. What did you think I meant? Oh, you are naughty. No, on a motorcycle, as in other activities, it's good for the person riding behind to hold on very tight, you know.  
  
You wouldn't want to fall out.  
  
Did I say out? Silly, I meant off.  
  
After a long ride like that, your legs must have been a little shaky when you finally got off. Did yours shake when you got off, Midvalley?  
  
You're both so quiet.  
  
There's no sun in here, Midvalley, but it almost seems as though your face is getting redder. You're not blushing are you? What would you have to blush about. It must be that you got too much sun on the way here.  
  
I have some lotion in my room at the hotel, Midvalley. If you were to come with me, I know I could make you feel so much better."  
  
"I'm fine, really," I said.  
  
"And I have some suncream lotion here," said Chapel. He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the bottle that he had concealed from the Evergreen that afternoon. He passed it to me. I opened it and squirted some of the thick, creamy fluid on my fingers. I applied it quickly to my face.  
  
"M-mmm," said Legato. "That looks good enough to eat. I'm in the mood for something sweet, salty and filling. Like a banana split with whipped cream, nuts and a cherry or the immoral equivalent," he murmured with a quiet smile. "You are both so sweet and salty, I think. One was cherry. Did I say that out loud? My mind was wandering.  
  
How thoughtful to carry lotion for Midvalley's sunburn in your pocket, Chapel. It must feel good to have a devoted partner looking out for your welfare."  
  
"That's true," said Chapel. "Master Knives is lucky he has you, Legato. No one works harder than you to help him. I have never seen devotion like yours. He must be missing you now."  
  
"Perhaps, but I am expected at the Academy. It was the cream on your fingers, Midvalley, that reminded me of how hungry I am. But don't you agree, Chapel, that nothing satisfies like big, juicy sausages stuffed in delicious hot buns?"  
  
"But there are different types of sausage," Chapel said, " and once you fall in love with a certain kind, you can't really be satisfied with anything else."  
  
"I disagree, Chapel," he said with some heat. "You could be satisfied with any kind if you were hungry enough, and I am very hungry."  
  
"It would ease your hunger pangs, but it wouldn't truly satisfy because you would still be craving the one you love."  
  
"I never knew that you, who eat so little, would become a philosopher of food, Chapel. But what you say has the ring of truth to me. Will you join me in something to eat. I am missing my master and I am lonely for company," he said and he looked as if he truly meant it.  
  
"Yes, let's have something," said Nick, which surprised me. The girl who served us earlier came back to take our order. Legato ordered a special spiced sausage in a bun and a banana split. Nick ordered black coffee and a couple of packs of cigarettes. I ordered coffee with cream, bacon, toast and scrambled eggs. A lot of times after a gig, I'll order breakfast. When I placed my order, Nick smiled at me, and told the waitress, he'd changed his mind and to please bring him some bacon and eggs too. I knew he was remembering our most memorable breakfast.  
  
While we were waiting, Legato started the conversational ball rolling. I just hoped that it wasn't as packed with innuendo as his monologue.  
  
"But what brings you two here, besides music?  
  
"My father had an errand for me, a meeting with the bishop tomorrow at ten."  
  
"That's what Chapel the Evergreen said when I called him this afternoon. When I heard that our two finest field agents were in Mei City, I got the sudden urge to see you both, so I took a side trip and here I am. I find that being "the Boss" can be a very lonely job at times. It seems that almost every one near my own age acts scared to death of me. Yet when I spend any great length of time with Leonof or pardon me for saying so, Chapel, with your father, I find myself bored out of my mind. They are always so serious.  
  
It feels so good to have found some company. I'd like you to accompany me back to the academy. I have my armored vehicle and a couple of drivers. We could leave tonight and arrive tomorrow morning. I know where the bishop lives. I could rouse him and you could have your meeting and then we can leave. In fact, it's decided. You will accompany me, will you not?"  
  
"What about my motorcycle?" asked Chapel.  
  
"There is plenty of room on my vehicle."  
  
"Then I'd be happy to return with you," Chapel said.  
  
"Me too," I said.  
  
My hopes for the rest of the night unraveled completely. We ate our meal. Legato tracked down the Bishop who knew of Legato's abilities and was very respectful. Chapel and the Bishop quickly finished their business. Legato, Nick and I checked out of the Maytime at 4 in the morning. Legato's drivers attached Chapel's motorcycle to the armored car frame and by four thirty we were headed back to Evergreen's Academy. Despite Legato's contention that he wanted company, he was fatigued after his meal, and soon after the armored car was headed for Epril town, he told us that he was going to lie down and rest. Legato's armored car, more of a wagon really, slept six comfortably. Chapel and I had both had a very long day and with sex out of the question between us, we yielded to our bodies' need for rest and after one last hungry glance at each other, fell asleep in separate berths.  
  
The armored car traveled considerably slower than Nick's motorcycle had, so the two of us, no, the three of us arrived at the Academy some six hours later horny as hell and with no relief in sight. It was going to be a long, long two weeks until graduation. 


	13. Stomping at the White Cat Saloon

Stomping at the White Cat  
  
When we arrived at Evergreen's Academy, Legato said to Nick and me, "We must resume our conversation later. But I have instructions for Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen that ought not be delayed."  
  
Nick said, "I must deliver the Bishop's letter as well."  
  
I glanced casually at Nick and said, "Meet you in the dining hall for lunch?"  
  
He nodded his assent as he helped remove his bike from Legato's armored car.  
  
I walked back to my quarters and cleaned up. Sometime later, I heard Nick's step on the staircase. He didn't come to my room. I spent a good half hour mulling over Legato's behavior and trying to make sense of it, but I couldn't. Finally I gave up trying and headed off to lunch.  
  
Nick was already there. I went through the lunch line and asked for a bowl of tomas stew. When I joined Nick at the table, all I saw in front of him was a cup of black coffee and an ash tray that already held 3 cigarette butts.  
  
"Been here long?" I asked him.  
  
"Maybe 15 minutes."  
  
"Three cigarettes in 15 minutes. You must be a little tense."  
  
"Do ya think, Midvalley?" he commented sarcastically.  
  
"Hey, lighten up, Nick. You're not the only one feeling the tension. You've got to find something to do to keep it in check."  
  
"I'm sucking on these instead of you," he said as he held up a freshly lit cigarette in his hand, "not that it's working all that well. What's your plan, Midvalley?"  
  
"Thought I'd play Silvia this afternoon and take my mind off my other horn," I said with a rueful glance at my crotch.  
  
"To tell the truth, cigarettes just aren't cutting it, Midvalley. I don't care how hot it is. I thought I'd head out to the range with a load of ammo and explosives and blow shit up."  
  
"Whatever works," I said with a shrug and took a bite of stew. "You want to hit the White Cat Saloon afterwards?"  
  
"You know what I want, Midvalley. You and me in one bed getting off on each other." He took a deep drag from his cigarette, held the smoke in his lungs and then exhaled through his nostrils, looking almost angry as he did so.  
  
I wanted what he wanted, but felt it was too risky to chance with Legato around. I couldn't face Nick's eyes again. I heard him stub out his cigarette butt and get up from his chair.  
  
"Go blow shit up, Chapel. Blow some up for me," I said to his retreating back.  
  
After I finished my lunch I went back to my place and worked out a song on Silvia, playing a passage and then recording the notes on paper. Then I played some more and when she took me in a new direction I wrote down those notes also. The afternoon flew by, but Nick was always there in the back of my mind, my feelings for him an inspiration for my song. It was nearly first sunset when I came to a pause and was just recording the notes of the last theme that had come to me, when I heard a knock on my door.  
  
"Just a minute," I said, and finished writing the last few notes on the music paper.  
  
I opened the door and there stood Nick, freshly showered and shaved, his skin sun-burnished to a golden bronze, by his afternoon at the range. The deep blue of his suit set off the brilliant blue of his eyes. Contrasted against the crisp pressed cotton of his gleaming white shirt , the honeyed satin of his exposed neck and chest was like a magnet for my lips. I resisted that temptation, but my hand was on his face stroking his smooth cheek before I was aware, and the sudden memory of that cheek against my cock kindled my desire. I felt almost drunk as my psyche lurched between feelings of caution and craving. I took my hand from his face and all I could think of to say was, "You look great."  
  
"You look glad to see me, Midvalley. I like you with your hair rumpled like this, and your shirt-tails out, no socks. It wouldn't take much to get you undressed. I could have my way with you," he said playfully. He brushed his lips against my cheek and whispered in my ear, "I heard you playing when I came in a little earlier. You sounded beautiful."  
  
I blushed. "Thanks, Nick."  
  
If this was what love was, then let me have more of it, I thought. With other sex partners, I had experienced the pleasures of the body, but Nick seemed to value me as worthwhile in my own right, not just for the sex, but for who I was. He didn't judge me for my flaws and failings. He valued me in spite of them. He really loved me. I hadn't felt loved like that since my mother died, and never expected to feel it again, yet against all odds and expectations, it had come to me. The power of the emotion that washed over me as I understood this brought me to the brink of tears.  
  
"Are you all right, Midvalley," Nick asked.  
  
"I love you," I said. "That's all."  
  
He wrapped me in a close embrace and held me. I could tell he was deeply touched by my words.  
  
A few minutes later, Nick asked me, "You still want to go to the White Cat? We could toss back a few, maybe get a little drunk or a lot. Give my mouth something else to do, besides wishing it were on you. You must have noticed how well I'm behaving. Blowing up shit worked out a lot of the tension."  
  
"I did notice. Tell you the truth, I think you're holding up better than I am. Give me a few minutes to clean up and we'll hit the saloon."  
  
About 15 minutes later, we set out for the White Cat about half an hour away on foot. It was in a rough part of town. Chapel left the Cross Punisher behind, but was packing a Grader automatic tucked in a shoulder holster. I brought Silvia along.  
  
While we walked, Nick was pensive.  
  
"What's on your mind?" I asked him.  
  
"I'm just curious. I know you're a brave man, Midvalley, but somehow, you seem almost scared of Legato."  
  
"I have a healthy respect for Legato, and you have no idea how much I owe him."  
  
"Owe him?"  
  
"I never told you the story of how I came to Evergreen's Academy."  
  
"No, there's a lot about you I don't know, Midvalley."  
  
"My mother ran a whorehouse. That's right. My mother was a madam. The name of the place was Silvia's Cupcakes. She was an independent woman. She used to tell me, "Midvalley, there's two kinds of people who come to a whorehouse. There's those who need to pay for sex and those who need to be paid for sex. My job as a madam is to provide a safe comfortable place for the transaction to take place.  
  
Well there was a third kind of person who came to the whorehouse, the kind that wanted it for free or who wanted more than was on the menu or to rough up the girls, so she hired a bouncer, big guy named Bill McFarlane. They used to say that even his muscles had muscles and he did keep us vermin free. When I first met him, I thought he was a great guy, the father I never had. Trouble was, he drank and he could be a mean drunk. He was also a little in love with my mother.  
  
He was with us for almost three years. I started taking sax lessons just about the time when he started working for my mother. Everything seemed fine until one day, I came home from a lesson and found that McFarlane and all the girls were gone, except my mother. I found her body in her bedroom. She'd been shot in the head at point-blank range with a shot gun. You know what that looks like, Nick. My beautiful mother, Silvia. I guess I went a little crazy at first. I don't remember much, except crying a lot. I didn't know what to do. Finally, I went to the Sheriff's office and told a deputy what had happened. When he heard the victim was a whorehouse madam, he actually laughed.  
  
Another deputy told me that they were too busy too investigate just then, but that I should just go back, not touch anything and wait until they came. Well, they didn't come, so I cried and slept. When I woke up they still hadn't come, so I started to play my sax to take my mind off of my mother's body in the next room, but I couldn't stop thinking of what happened to her. She was so beautiful but someone hated her enough to end her life that way.  
  
I was filled with feelings of pain and anger. The more I played the worse I felt until my mood was so black it was all my mind held and all I wanted to do was to break something, to destroy, to smash. and then all the windows exploded and I stopped playing, amazed. Somehow, I was aware that I had done it with my sax. My head ached afterwards and I felt sick to my stomach and. I threw up in the toilet and lay down on my bed and went to sleep. When I woke up, it was dark. I heard a voice in my mother's room. It was Bill McFarlane. He was drunk, talking to my mother's dead body. He mocked her, cursed her, and told her he was glad he had killed her, said she was nothing but a rotten whore. This was the man who had murdered my mother.  
  
I picked up my sax and started to play. He heard me and said, "Oh it's you, you, whoreson. I'm coming for you."  
  
I don't know if you can imagine how much I hated him. Bill McFarlane came into the room with his finger on the trigger of a shotgun. He was going to murder me too. As I played with black thoughts swirling in my head, I could the see the air in the room seemed to thicken. He said, "What the hell is this," when he saw it. I pictured him dead with his brains blown out. I wanted him dead. I willed him dead, and I blew out his brains with my sax.  
  
Not long after, I felt a presence in my mind and heard a voice in my head. "I'm not easily impressed, but that got my attention."  
  
Maybe half an hour later, Legato showed up. He had sensed the psionic disturbance and that's how he found me. He got your father to accept me at the academy and made sure my mother got a decent burial."  
  
"I'm sorry, Midvalley. I never knew that about you."  
  
"I'm not asking for sympathy. Sob stories are 10 c-cents a dozen on Planet Gunsmoke. You know. You've had your share of bad times. The point is when I was having a hard time, Legato came through for me.  
  
Nick, I remember telling you the night you got raped that the same thing happened to me. It's actually kind of funny, us going to the White Cat tonight, because that's where it happened, in the alley behind the saloon. I just turned 14, but even then I was crazy for music. I attended classes at the academy and I was a good student, but when classes were over for the day, I practiced my saxophone and rehearsed with some other players. When classes were over for the week, I stayed up late and played with whatever band was working at the saloon. I did it for a year, until I started my own band, and had a great time until finally my luck ran out.  
  
You must have seen it happen a hundred times. One night a gang took over the White Cat, the usual losers who find a kind of courage by being in a gang. Some of them didn't have the money to afford a prostitute. Must have been five or six of them decided I was just as pretty and a hell of a lot cheaper. They dragged me out in the alley, wrapped a choke chain around my neck and basically did whatever they wanted with me. Jerked off in my mouth, fucked me up the ass, kicked me until I passed out and then when I came to, the next group was squeezing whatever pleasure they could out of me. They didn't seem to mind the blood at first, but finally I guess I was just too messed up to appeal to anyone. I don't know because I passed out again. Finally someone found me and helped me."  
  
"The way you helped me. I'd like to thank whoever it was."  
  
"It was Legato, Nick, who took me to his room and wiped the come off my face. It was Legato who ran a bath for me and bandaged my wounds and watched over me while I slept. He wasn't Master Knives' right hand man in those days. Just a student, like me, with nothing to gain by helping me. He found me the same way he did when my mother died. He felt my pain and came to help me.  
  
"I never would have guessed that he could be so kind.  
  
"You say I seem almost scared by him, but I'm not scared, exactly. Maybe for you. Legato has had a very hard life. Harder than I think either of us can imagine. Some years ago, while you were assigned to the Drake execution, Legato was recovering from surgery on his arm. I never knew exactly why he needed it, a cancer in the marrow or a potentially fatal tumor, I think, maybe. In any case, Master Knives advised him to have it amputated and replaced with an arm that he had in stasis. Legato was in terrible pain after the operation."  
  
"But you were out on assignments by then, weren't you, Midvalley. How could you know how he felt?"  
  
"I was more than 400 iles away at the time of the operation and I was having sex with an accordion player named Mark. Since I knew Mark pretty well there was an empathic link between us. In his agony, Legato reached out for comfort and found me. He knew of my small healing ability. I was strong enough to survive the pain that came through the link, but Mark wasn't.  
  
"So your friend died, but you can't think the same thing would happen to me? Legato is over that pain now. I think that there's something you're not telling me."  
  
I stopped walking. Nick looked back at me.  
  
"You have always known Legato could link to you if he was in range, yet you seemed ready enough to have sex with Dominique or Caine, anyone but me. You were pushing me away, Midvalley, and I'd like to know why."  
  
"Nearly all my life, Nick, as far as sex goes, I've never had much more than one-night stands. Any affairs I had lasted only a week or two at most. I never really got intimate enough with most of my bed mates to forge a strong empathic bond. I think I was afraid to get too close to them or of them getting too close to me. It may sound irrational, but what I have with you is so special, I'm afraid, that it's too good too last, that if I get too happy, something will come along to ruin it. Despite his devotion to Knives, Legato has needs like any other man and last night he was hungry for me. If he gets jealous, he could make things hard for you. He is the boss after all.  
  
"No, crippled or not, Knives is the boss, and I can take care of myself."  
  
" I hate to break it to you, Nick, but if Legato links to me while we're making love, he'll know. It will be exactly like we're fucking in front of him. No, it's more than that. He'll feel every stroke of your cock in me, the pressure of your lips on mine. There won't be a shred of privacy."  
  
I don't care if Legato and the whole goddamn world knows Midvalley. I want you in my bed tonight. Why are you making this so hard when it's so easy. I'm proud of what I feel for you and I am sick of sneaking around as if it were some cheap twisted thing."  
  
His words struck a chord in me. Something about what he said felt so right that I broke out in a grin, flung an arm around him and kissed him on the lips.  
  
"You really make me feel like a chickenshit. I want to be just like you when I grow up, Nick."  
  
He kissed me back and seemed about to withdraw, when he sighed heavily , pulled me closer to him and deepened the kiss. And there we stood swaying on the boardwalk of a dusty street in Epril town, not 50 yarz from the White Cat Saloon. I was oblivious of anything but the sweet sensation of our lips and tongues at play, until I heard a rough voice curse, "God, you fucking faggots."  
  
With a sigh of blissful satisfaction, Nick released me. I turned, my eyes still soft with tenderness, and watched with pleasure as he grabbed the man and sent him flying headfirst into a tomas hitching post.  
  
"You know, there are probably a lot of guys in the saloon who are going to want to kick the shit out of us if we do in there what we just did out here," I said.  
  
"And there's going to be a lot of guys getting the shit kicked out of them if they make the slightest move to mess with us if we do," said Nick.  
  
We stepped up to the entrance of the White Cat.  
  
"Well, here we are," I said and slid my arm around him. He slid his around me, and we pushed through the batwing doors of the White Cat and walked in on a full-scale brawl in progress.  
  
It seemed to involve students from the academy and bunch of brawny biker types in jeans, chains and leather with Mohawks and flash tats. I made a quick guesstimate and reckoned the students were outnumbered two to one. I saw Bernie and his buddies Ben and Jake, then E.G. Mine, Zazie, and Welch's other friend Ned Pitts who was standing back to back with Caine. I wondered what Caine was doing with the students. Whatever it was, Caine and Pitts seemed to be the focus of the most of the gang's aggression. By the time I realized our side was outweighed and outnumbered, Chapel had already waded into the thick of the action. He launched a good stiff kick to the crotch of a 300 pound plus Goliath who was angling to land an uppercut on Caine's slender jaw and the giant crashed to the floor with his eyes crossed.  
  
My first thought was for Silvia's welfare, so I set her out of harm's way on the bandstand, and on my way back into the fight, found myself face to face with a swarthy muscular man who must have outweighed me by 70 pounds. He took one look at my pastel shirt, smiled and I just knew he thought I was a pushover, but he went down in flames when I clobbered his chin with a high savate kick.  
  
Some gangly punk with uneven, lanky black hair had cornered Zazie and started to slap him around. Zazie was quick and nobody's fool. He dashed past the punk only to run into a bigger man, who grabbed him by the neck. Nick broke the big man's grip on Zazie and picked up the attacker as easily as the Cross Punisher. With a look of great satisfaction Nick sent the thug sailing with a crash through the saloon's big front window.  
  
Then I saw Zazie pick up a full liquor bottle and throw it in Chapel's direction. I was just about to intervene when the bottle knocked out a zit- faced goon with a sawed-off 2 by 4 who was just about to coldcock Nick. Nick and Zazie, the tall and the short, moved into the fray together.  
  
A beefy thug with brass knuckles aimed a roundhouse right at my mouth. I ducked, turned, elbowed him in the gut with all the force I could muster, rammed him hard in the groin with my knee, and left him writhing on the floor, whimpering. In a lull in the action, I saw Ben Evans, Bernie's hefty friend, take down two hulking opponents in under half a minute without even breaking a sweat. Under the fat, he had muscle. I was beginning to see what Bernie saw in him.  
  
Ned Pitts, the boy with sniper talent, was ferociously taking on anyone who came close to laying a hand on Caine. Slender as he was, he had a good left jab and an even better right cross.  
  
Even E.G. Mine was helping. Out of his weapon suit for the evening and dressed in dark blue sweats, his skill with the leg sweep surprised me. He took down five gang members with the technique. Zazie, finished off all five, with well-placed kicks in the nuts with the pointed tip of his leather boot.  
  
The tide of the battle had turned, and the only bikers still on their feet were scrambling to get away through the batwing doors. In a few seconds more, it was all over but the groaning.  
  
Chapel demonstrated the next order of business by picking up a bruised and beaten rowdy and ejecting him into the street. When he picked up the next bozo and chucked him out of the saloon, I was right behind him, hauling the brass-knuckled gorilla by the ankles, his head bumping on the stairs as I stepped down into the street to leave him lying in the sand. The students caught on next, and after we cleared out all the riff-raff, Chapel grabbed a broom, started sweeping up broken glass and said,  
  
"Let's help Miss Adelaide clean up this mess."  
  
I found a clean mop and a bucket and started to swab up the liquor spilled on the floor. The students began setting chairs and tables aright and when they had finished that, Miss Adelaide supervised the Randall City boys in fastening down the plywood board she always had as back up in case the big glass window got broken.  
  
Miss Adelaide, all of 60 years old with hennaed hair and a black silk dress, waggled a finger at Chapel and said, "When I saw you waltz in here, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist pitching someone through my nice new window. Old habits die hard."  
  
"I'll pay for the damages, Miss Adelaide," I volunteered. I knew that the students and Nick were always short on funds.  
  
"But I broke the window," said Nick. "Most of the damage is the window." I knew it was useless to argue when he took that tone.  
  
"So pay me back later."  
  
"I make the damages $$500," said Miss Adelaide.  
  
I pulled out my checkbook and wrote one out for that amount and handed it to her.  
  
"Any chance of getting some beers, Miss Adelaide?"  
  
"This round is on the house for helping me out," she said and she went to the tap and started filling mugs.  
  
Almost all of us were clustered around two tables. After I took a good swallow of ice cold beer, I asked the group at large, "What started this brawl anyway."  
  
Zazie took the lead in answering.  
  
"It was kind of a test of unarmed combat skills, part of Chapel the Evergreen's course in hand-to-hand combat. We weren't supposed to use weapons or any powers."  
  
"Yeah," piped up Bernie Welch, "I asked him how are we supposed to find a fight? He told us not to worry, the fight would find us, and he was right!"  
  
"What exactly triggered the fight though?"  
  
Bernie hooked a thumb in the direction of a back booth hidden in shadows. "They were kissing," he said. A closer look on my part revealed Ned Pitts, the class's star sniper, his lips buried in the slit of Caine's mask, his hand pressed on Caine's chest. I swear I saw a slight swelling there where a breast ought to be.  
  
"The gang took exception."  
  
"Ah," I said and just barely managed to pull my gaze from the kissing couple.  
  
At that point the doors of the saloon swung open, I turned my head to take a look at the newcomer. Legato stepped into the barroom and the students at the table scrambled to their feet and greeted him with enthusiastic splutters and stammers, "Mm-Master Legato!"  
  
Legato wore a warm smile as he spoke. "I see by the mess in the street that you managed to pass your hand-to-hand combat examination. Chapel the Evergreen will be very pleased with you," he said. "I think you should all head back to the academy now to give him the good news." he suggested in his calm, compelling voice.  
  
"Thank you, Master Legato," the students said as they stumbled over each other in their haste to leave. Nick and I stood up also as if to leave. I knew he had used his mind powers to get the students to leave. I just wanted to go back to Nick's place.  
  
"But, please, not you two," said Legato. "I was hoping to find you here. Won't you stay here with me for awhile. There is music here tonight, is there not, Midvalley? I am sure you brought Silvia along. I barely heard you play last night and I am one of your biggest fans."  
  
I had to smile at that. Nick and I sat down again. Legato pulled out a chair and joined us.  
  
"What are you drinking tonight, Legato? Would you care for some bourbon, beer, or brandy?" asked Nick.  
  
"Bourbon is fine, I think."  
  
"Miss Adelaide, may we have a bottle of bourbon and three glasses, please?" Nick called out.  
  
"Cigarette?" he asked as he offered the pack to Legato.  
  
"Don't mind if I do," said Legato and Nick struck a match and lit the cylinder that Legato held between his lips.  
  
Nick offered me one, but I passed.  
  
Miss Adelaide brought over the drinks and returned to washing glasses at the bar.  
  
"It's true what I said about my being a fan of yours. You must remember I had a room close to yours at the academy and I used to listen to you practice. It took me quite out of myself for a time when I heard you play. Do you know what I mean, Chapel?" he asked and turned to look at Nick.  
  
"Yes, I do," Nick answered as he opened the bottle and poured three shots.  
  
"Well, what should we drink to?" asked Legato.  
  
"Can't think of a thing," said Nick, "but you must have one in mind."  
  
Legato closed his eyes and smiled, "To Master Knives," he said and we tossed back our shots.  
  
"Yow!" exclaimed Nick. "Is that the worst bourbon you've ever had?"  
  
"It's right down there isn't it with gargling with razor blades," I offered.  
  
"By the fourth round, it will taste like mother's milk," laughed Legato.  
  
I poured the next round.  
  
"Your turn to toast, Midvalley," prompted Legato.  
  
I held up my glass, "Here's to good music and better bands," I said and gulped down the burning liquid.  
  
Legato shuddered after he swallowed his, but smiled as he said with his dulcet voice. "This bourbon gets better with every shot." He filled our glasses and smiled at Nick. "Your turn to toast, Chapel."  
  
"Here's to cigarettes, bourbon, and black coffee," Nick said as he lifted his glass.  
  
"Hear, hear!" I said, " I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll take my coffee with a little cream."  
  
".And lots of cream and sugar for me," said Legato.  
  
We all touched glasses and tossed back the third round.  
  
"Hey, the bourbon is getting better," said Nick. "It's more like swallowing broken glass now. A definite improvement."  
  
"Got another cigarette, Chapel?" Legato asked.  
  
Chapel lit another for Legato and when Nick offered one to me, I didn't turn it down. Nick and Legato both looked pretty relaxed. I still felt a little on edge and hoped the cigarette would calm me a little.  
  
Nick said, "I meant to ask you yesterday, Legato, how is Master Knives' health progressing?"  
  
"I am pleased to say that he is healing. He is able to spend over an hour a day outside the fluid tank, and has begun to walk a little."  
  
"That's good news," said Chapel.  
  
"Let's have another toast on that," I said and poured three shots.  
  
"To Master Knives!" said Legato.  
  
"To Master Knives!" we all said and downed our shots.  
  
We smoked in silence while the liquor loosened us up.  
  
"Should we have another shot?" asked Legato. "That last one went down pretty smooth."  
  
I was beginning to feel very, very relaxed. I sighed and rested my head on my hand and said ,"One more round and I might not be able to hay my plorn, I mean, uh.uh.say my plax."  
  
"Oh, God, Midvalley, you lightweight," said Nick, " you are cut off!"  
  
"Don't cut me off," I said in dreamy tone. "The night is young and so am I."  
  
Nick was telling Legato, "We have to make sure that Midvalley stays sober enough to hay his plorn tonight."  
  
"That reminds me of a limerick I made up," I said.  
  
"Hope it's a dirty one," said Legato. "Let's hear it."  
  
"A near-sighted hornfreak named Max, was playing a tune to relax. When he sucked on the reed, He swallowed some seed, and said I don't think that was my sax!"  
  
"Good one, Midvalley," said Nick with a grin.  
  
"Not bad, Hornfreak! How about you, Chapel? Have you got one, a Chapel original?"  
  
"Okay, okay. I'm making up one now. It's not as good as Midvalley's, but it's all I can think of.  
  
There once was a gal in December, Whose tongue was so agile and limber That she sucked me quite dry In the wink of an eye, A sensation I'll always remember."  
  
"I've heard worse," said Legato, "I've made up worse, but it's my turn. Listen.  
  
There was a young man from Carcassus, whose anus passed natural gases, now there's no need for Plants, he just pulls down his pants and his ass provides power for the masses."  
  
Chapel snorted when he heard this one and burst out laughing. I couldn't help myself either. That was a funny one. Inventive too.  
  
"That was great, Legato," Chapel said with a broad smile on his face. "You slayed me last night with the double meanings. It was hard to keep a straight face. Especially the sausages tucked in hot buns line. You've got a good sense of humor."  
  
"I think you're the only one who gets my humor."  
  
The bar was beginning to fill up now. It was nearly eight thirty and I was just wondering why the band hadn't showed yet when I saw a group of 3 men come into the bar carrying instruments. They went straight to the bandstand and started setting up. I didn't recognize any of them. It looked like guitar and bass and a drum set, a three piece band. They'd probably have no objection to me sitting in with them. The guitar and bass player started tuning up. They looked and sounded professional. The third guy setting up the drums, didn't seem like a musician. From something about the way he handled the instruments, I gathered he was a roadie and wondered where the drummer was. Then the drummer walked through the bat-wing doors and my heart sank. It was Skip Walker, the drummer from hell, the one that almost subbed for Lenny at the Come Back Inn, the drummer whose rhythm was off, the one Lenny described as bland and selfish.  
  
His pale blue eyes lit up with recognition when he saw me. He came over to the table, the bar light over his head shining onto the scalp glistening beneath his blond comb over.  
  
"Hey, player. It's been a while. I suppose you'll want to sit in with us on a few numbers, and I don't have a problem with that. Just remember though, that this is my band and the audience wants to hear me on drums, so try not to showboat the way you usually do and we won't have a problem."  
  
He completely ignored Nick and Legato, turned and walked up to the bandstand.  
  
I could see Nick in the chair beside me with a murderous look starting in his eye. If Walker had seen or been able to understand the meaning of the look he was getting, he might have worried a little.  
  
Skip, oblivious, turned to the audience and announced the band, "I am Skip Walker and this is the Skip Walker band. A sax player will sit in with us for a few numbers."  
  
There was some applause as he said this.  
  
The house lights went down. The first number was hard to listen to. It was "Over the Top" which I always thought was a decent show starter, but I could hardly hear the guitar over the drums. There were even vocals, but the words and melody were drowned in the thunder of Skip's drums. It was obvious they hadn't done any rehearsing together. Skip finished off the tune with a five minute drum solo and I do mean finished off. There were patrons of the White Cat getting up to leave.  
  
The next song was "Five Moon's Waltz" a beautiful tune, made nearly unrecognizable by the ferocity of Skip's drum attack. The guitarist was able to take a short solo break and I could tell he was sensitive and talented, but shortly overwhelmed by Skip speeding up the tempo too much. Nobody danced.  
  
As the set went on, I got more depressed as I listened to music being mangled. Finally, Skip beckoned me to the bandstand. There was a loud round of applause. Even without an introduction, lots of White Cat Saloon veterans recognized me. "For the final number of this set, the Hornfreak will join the Skip Walker band in playing "Silvia's Tune."  
  
I swung into the tune with a sweet sax solo in b-flat minor. The bass player joined in with some silky rhythm. The guitar player and I found the groove and to my surprise Walker backed off. For all of three minutes he lightly slapped his snare drum with his brush set and we sounded good as gold. Then Skip's foot on the bass pedal got a little too emphatic and he pushed the tune way too fast. Some couples out on the dance floor had been moving to the music but stopped dancing when they couldn't follow the beat. The rest of the song was a sand steamer wreck and I was relieved when it was over. The way that Skip Walker fucked over the music sickened me.  
  
I brought Silvia's case with me back to the chair, packed her away carefully and sat down. Legato and Nick looked at me with concern.  
  
"What happened up there?" asked Legato. "You look ill. That drummer is awful."  
  
Skip Walker came over from the bar with a bottle of beer in his hand, pulled out a chair and sat next to me.  
  
"God, you're out of practice, Hornfreak. Guess you're spending too much time screwing your fag priest. He must be pretty good in the sack though. You been together for what, six months? Maybe you ought to buy him an engagement ring. But I think your new groupie looks even cuter. You do both at once? I always thought you were way too oversexed."  
  
"This is Master Legato," I said as if that explained it all.  
  
"Gotcha. Kinda like a dominatrix."  
  
Legato watched Walker with the coldest look in his golden eye.  
  
"There's a lot of weird sex freaks in this bar," Walker went on. " There's a couple in the booth back there. They were kissing when I came in and they're still kissing now. I think they're fags too."  
  
"I have had enough of you," said Legato.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean, sissy boy?"  
  
A cloud of dust swirled through the batwing doors of the White Cat Saloon, making us all cough and choke. When the smoke cleared, Skip Walker had vanished. 


	14. Blood and Thunder

Blood and Thunder  
  
Skip Walker didn't come back. I had seen the air thicken, just as I had when I generated the sonic wave that killed Bill McFarlane and was dead certain that Legato was responsible for Walker's removal.  
  
Miss Adelaide was foresighted enough to bring us another bottle of bourbon.  
  
"That Skip Walker.humph. Not much of a musician, if you ask me," she said to me. "First he's late, then he up and goes without a by your leave with three sets left to play. If you pick up the slack and finish the night out for him, I'll tear up that check you wrote for the damages. I already talked to the guitarman and the bass player. They want to play with you. Heck, that Walker feller was paying them slave wages. And his music didn't sound nice like yours, Midvalley."  
  
I turned to Nick. He was pouring shots. He pushed a glass over to me and one to Legato and kept one for himself.  
  
"What do you think? Should I stay?" My eyes went to Nick's.  
  
"I came to hear you play," said Legato.  
  
"So did I," said Nick. "I've got a bad taste in my mouth from what I heard before. Restore my faith in musicians, Midvalley."  
  
"I'll do it," I told Miss Adelaide. "Just give me more time I've got to talk to these other players and see what kind of song list we can put together."  
  
"Could you start in fifteen minutes? Any longer and my customers will start leaving for a livelier spot."  
  
"You got it, Miss Adelaide," I said.  
  
I started to think, and reached in my pocket for a pen and a scrap of paper to write on. I stared at the ceiling, remembering song titles and glanced around the barroom trying to think of ideas for the playlist. My eyes kept going to the shadowed booth where Caine and Ned Pitts were still kissing. Somehow, Pitts hadn't left when Legato had made his hypnotic suggestion. Strange.  
  
Oh, yeah, "Lip service", I thought and wrote it down. "Cocksure." Get them going-- audience favorite. "Under the Weather." "Kiss me, stupid." "Five Moons Waltz".  
  
I studied Caine and Pitts more closely and thought I detected just the slightest increase in the intensity of their kiss. Caine's gloved fingers grasped ever so slightly more around Pitts' nape and he seemed to settle just a little deeper into the embrace. But now it seemed as if I were looking at a single entity. The level of concentration on both their parts was uncanny. I was picking up pointers and suddenly wished I had paid more attention to my sniper's lessons.  
  
"So," said Nick, "thought of any song titles besides "Lip Service?" He'd been just as curious as I was about the action in that back booth.  
  
"Don't mock me, priestman. You two get to laze around getting drunk, but I've got to go to work. There's a rough crowd in here. We don't even know what happened to the last musician that pissed them off," I said with a speculative look at Legato who chuckled, "That was no musician."  
  
I walked over to the bandstand and shared a quick conversation with the guitar player, Randy. He had been putting together a song list while I was. It turned out we had about two set's worth of song's in common so far. He had heard me play at the Come Back Inn. That's where he'd met Skip Walker, who had lied to him about being great friends of Lenny and me.  
  
The bass player, Jason, it turns out had had a copy of "Hornfreak Gold" and used to practice to it. He could also play "G-string".  
  
"You won't be disgusted by the way I play it, trust me," he said.  
  
So we were able to add more songs.  
  
"Come on, let's go, guys," I said. "Miss Adelaide's getting antsy."  
  
I strapped Silvia around my neck. Jason started us going with a nice heavy bass line and we swung into "Lip Service". Randy filled in with rhythm when he wasn't playing lead. He was a real professional. The music we made was good, not great, but the dance floor filled up, and I could just tell we were going to click. We just got better and better as the set went on. And the audience was generous with applause after the last number.  
  
I didn't have much time between sets. I wanted to spend most of it with Jason and Randy to see if we could make the third set even better than the second, and work out a couple of intros and endings.  
  
I grabbed a shot and checked out Caine and Pitts again. I thought they were breathing just a little deeper. I overheard Nick and Legato talking a little about Dominique, who apparently had money woes because of a gambling debts that she was paying off by working extra assignments. I could see Nick was intrigued by this.  
  
Jason, Randy, and I made it through the third set without too many clinkers. Considering we hadn't rehearsed, we were doing really well, and by the time the fourth set was done, we had actually made music that I was proud to have played.  
  
"It's been an education," said Jason after the gig was officially over.  
  
"I can't wait to tell everyone I jammed with the Hornfreak," said Randy.  
  
" Hey, knock it off you're embarrassing me." I said and shook his hand. "If you two want to jam with the Midvalley Five, there's going to be a graduation dance in a couple of weeks at Evergreen's Academy. Swing by and join us if you don't have a gig. We can always use some good musicians."  
  
Adelaide paid them, then they packed up and left.  
  
I finally sat down. I was feeling a little melancholy. Sometimes I feel a let-down after a gig, and this one had started out so badly.  
  
"God, that was hard work," I said.  
  
"And you made it look so easy," said Legato.  
  
"I work at it," I said. "I wish I had more time to work at it."  
  
"Well, Chapel has been telling me he would like to work more assignments and you appear to be telling me you would like to work fewer."  
  
"I will be happy to work whatever assignments I am given. I was merely thinking that with a new class graduating, there might be a need to get them field experience as soon as possible. There are only so many jobs to go around after all."  
  
"You think like a manager, Midvalley. I was just discussing that this morning with Chapel the Evergreen and Leonof. Because of that concern we were wondering whether we should end your partnership ahead of time to provide two mentors for new apprentices. Chapel here seems to have such an instinctive grasp of field work, that we had our doubts about whether the full two year apprenticeship was necessary. The negative reaction of some of the students to being taught by someone they see as an inexperienced agent made us decide to at least maintain the appearance of a full apprenticeship."  
  
"This is no criticism of you, Chapel. I was definitely in favor of splitting your team up simply because I think your superior skills need no extra honing. But my opinion was in the minority. There seemed to be some concern about the sketchiness of your field reports though. But not everyone can be a Midvalley.  
  
Quite frankly, I personally doubt you need a partner at all, but I am offering you an arrangement that will get you both what you want. The apprenticeship will last the full two years, unless of course, as you know, there is a death or severe injury.  
  
What I am offering you is the chance to do extra missions, with Midvalley here as a consultant, in name only if you wish. The only other constant is meeting the criterion of the 100% success rate. The more missions you take on, the greater the potential for failure. But I doubt you're concerned about mission failure, Chapel.  
  
As for you, Midvalley, as a consultant, you wouldn't bear the responsibility for mission failure, since that ultimately is the agent's concern."  
  
I had mixed feelings about the proposal. The idea of having more time to compose was seductive. I realized that I had begun to enjoy composing even more than performing. The exploration of new ground, the creation of new songs stretched me in a way that playing "Cocksure" or "Moons Rise" for the 500th time never could.  
  
On the other hand, with Nick taking on more assignments, I knew I'd see less of him and that deepened my sense of melancholy. I knew it was Nick's sense of honor about seeing his debts repaid that made him request the extra assignments. I suspected that there was more to Nick's debt than I was aware of. I also noticed that he was more generous with his money than I was, a sucker for widows and orphans. I worked two jobs and had a sizeable balance tucked away in the Epril Town Bank. Chapel worked two jobs and was always on the edge of stony broke. He obviously needed the extra jobs. We hadn't even parted yet I found I felt oppressed by the thought.  
  
Get a grip, Midvalley, I told myself. You'll still see him.  
  
Legato was looking at me impassively as he waited for my response.  
  
"Yeah, I like the idea," I said.  
  
"I wondered if you would. For a minute you looked as though you'd lost your best friend."  
  
I didn't say anything.  
  
"I'm not deaf, blind, or stupid," said Legato. "I didn't need that Walker to tell me that you two are more than partners.  
  
I didn't say anything , but Nick just chuckled and held up his open hands in a gesture of surrender, "Well, you caught us out," he said with a sheepish but ingratiating smile which made him look somehow guilty and innocent at the same time. "Are we in real big trouble?"  
  
Legato laughed softly, "I've been told you're brave, Chapel, and all the reports indicate it. Now I see it in person."  
  
He paused a moment and then continued, " My official position on liaisons is to ignore them, just so long as they don't interfere with the missions. Just remember the two concepts-loyalty and success, loyalty and success."  
  
Legato sighed and said, "I've gotten quite hungry again. I don't suppose you two would care to join me?"  
  
Nick scratched his forehead as if he were a little embarrassed and said, " Midvalley and I were planning to indulge in that sausage in buns snack you mentioned yesterday when we got back home."  
  
Legato had to chuckle again at Chapel's audacity. I blushed and gave Nick a side-long glance. Legato and Nick were laughing. Still laughing, Legato turned to the back booth and called out with his most magnetic persuasive tone, "Caine, Pitts, don't you think you should be getting back to the academy?"  
  
Caine and Pitts were still sucking away on each others lips with a static but mesmerizing intensity and showed no sign of stopping to comply.  
  
Legato gave a sigh of surrender, " I guess not." He glanced at Nick and gave me a benign look. "Well, go then if you must, but remember, I've got my eye on you."  
  
"It's been fun, Legato," Nick said as he left some bills on the table to cover the bar tab.  
  
"It has been, Chapel. I'd like to get to know you better. You've always been a little hard for me to read, but I must say I enjoyed the evening. And thank you for the music and the company, Midvalley," said Legato. "We'll have to do this more often. It was almost like old times."  
  
We stepped out into the street. It was two o'clock in the morning. There were a couple of taxicabs outside the saloon, their drivers hoping to earn some extra cash by chauffeuring drunks home.  
  
"I don't want to wait much longer , Midvalley," said Nick.  
  
We took the cab and were back at the academy in almost 5 minutes. Then up the stairs we walked to Nick's apartment and entered. He closed the door behind us. I knew Nick wanted me. I knew I loved him and wanted him, but found myself slipping deeper into melancholy.  
  
"What's the matter, Midvalley," Nick asked. He sounded a little anxious for me.  
  
"Not sure exactly, but I think it's what Walker did to "Silvia's Tune". I wrote that song in memory of my mother. It's beautiful like she was, but he made it sound ugly. I felt sick."  
  
Nick folded his arms around me and hugged me for a long moment, then brushed my lips with an affectionate kiss and unfastened the top button of my trousers, but stopped at that point. He looked at me with concern and said, "You're still feeling blue. I can tell."  
  
"A little," I answered.  
  
"I know a cure for the blues," said Nick he said with a touch of his playful humor.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"I do" he said softly and held my face tenderly and closed my mouth with a kiss, then guided me back towards his bed. He eased my zipper down, and nudged me gently down on the bed and straddled me, and slowly unbuttoned my shirt until my chest was exposed.  
  
"I want to feel your skin on mine," I said and unbuttoned his shirt. He unbuttoned his pants, slipped them down on the floor, tugged off his shirt and helped me off with my shirt and pants and then embraced me tenderly as if he could not get enough of our closeness He touched my skin with sighs of pleasure. I slid my hands over his sleek muscled arms and shoulders and pulled him nearer. My mouth blindly sought his and I kissed whatever part of him lay in its path, his chest, neck, chin, until I found his lips with mine. We rested with our mouths and tongues commingled, our hands slipping, touching, clasping flesh. The passion of his kisses, the bold questing of his tongue erased caution and the clouds of melancholy that had gathered in my heart began to melt away. I began to respond, my heart rate rising and my breath panting, when I felt a sudden pain in my head and heard a velvet voice in my mind.  
  
"Just like the good old days, Hornfreak."  
  
I stiffened. Nick pulled out of the kiss with a sigh and looked at me with surprise.  
  
"What's the matter, Midvalley? Don't you want this?"  
  
"I have to take a leak first. Sorry. I'll be back soon. I really ought to shave. Can I use your razor? Thanks."  
  
He looked a little troubled but I heard him scrape a match and inhale his first drag before I reached the bathroom door.  
  
"He's quite the romantic isn't he. He reminds me of you when you were younger and not quite so jaded."  
  
Legato laughed softly. Intimately.  
  
"Remember that outbuilding near the weapon range where you showed me how to fire my other pistol. Your lips on me were so exciting that I called out your name when I came."  
  
My cock was flaccid. I took it in my hand and guided the piss into the toilet bowl and flushed when I finished.  
  
"Seeing how you hold him reminds me of how you used to hold me, Hornfreak."  
  
I washed my hands and got the shaving brush, mug and straight razor from the medicine cabinet and soaped up the brush.  
  
"Remember the day you said, 'I love you, Legato?' I do."  
  
I lathered my face.  
  
"You were full of gratitude and sweet surprises in the old days."  
  
"But Master Knives wanted you and you left me." I mumbled as I sharpened the razor on the leather strop.  
  
"I wasn't gone a month and when I came back to visit, you had already taken up with that drummer in your band."  
  
I angled the razor and carefully scraped my cheek.  
  
"I supposed it was because of your mother's profession that your cock was so fickle. No offense. In a way I admired your sexual appetite."  
  
I shaved the whiskers from my chin.  
  
"I have had to find other outlets for my tension."  
  
I passed the razor over my other cheek and rinsed the blade.  
  
"After all these years, you're head over heels in love again. How nice for you."  
  
I began to shave my neck.  
  
"Does he know we were lovers? Ah, I see you kept our little secret from him."  
  
"Midvalley?" I heard Nick call from the next room.  
  
"Careful, that's a sharp razor. You could nick yourself."  
  
The razor skidded on the slippery lather on my neck and sliced a deep cut through the skin there. In the mirror I saw blood gush from the wound. I felt strangely faint and distanced from my body as I watched the red drops spatter on the white tiled floor. The razor seemed too heavy for my hand to hold and it fell to the floor. I stared dumbly at the razor and the spattered blood.  
  
"What's taking so long, Midvalley," I heard Nick call from outside. He nudged the door open, took one look at my bleeding neck and the razor on the floor, said, "Fuck, Midvalley." and sprang into action. He grabbed a towel, applied it to my wound and pressed my hand to the towel guided me out to a chair and said, "Sit down before you fall down. God, you look out of it."  
  
He was in the bathroom a few seconds and returned with a first aid kit. He wet a gauze pad with antiseptic and wiped the cut. He placed a thick gauze pad against the wound.  
  
"Hold that in place a minute, Midvalley," he said. He wound more gauze around my neck and secured it with adhesive tape.  
  
I started to shiver.  
  
"God, Midvalley, you're like ice," he said and shepherded me to his bed, settled me in and covered me with a sheet. He pulled a coverlet from a closet and tucked it around me.  
  
"Are you in pain, Midvalley?"  
  
I suddenly realized my head hurt. "My head aches," I said. He disappeared into the bathroom again and brought me a glass of water and pills for the pain. I sat up and swallowed them. My hands shook on the glass and my teeth chattered. Nick took the glass from me, set it on the table and turned off the light. He slipped under the covers, pulled me into him and covered me with the warmth of his body and held me. It seemed to me I couldn't get warm for the longest time, but little by little the shivering quieted, I drifted into sleep and I dreamed.  
  
I am a boy again playing hide-and-go seek. I am searching for Legato. First, I am at the Academy walking down the corridor where classes are held , I turn down another hallway and I am in my mother's whorehouse. I walk down the passageway with the rooms where the whores entertain their customers. Jackie's, Laura's, Amy's, Suzanne's, Marie's.I hear a sound in Marie's room and open the door. Legato stands in front of a mirror dressed in Marie's blue silk dress with the ruffled petticoats below it. He is tying a black velvet ribbon around his neck. When he sees my reflection in the mirror he turns, smiles, and lifts his skirt like a can-can dancer and flashes his cock at me. Then he spins and with his back to me, lifts the back of his skirt with its petticoat slips and I see the pink moons of his ass. I look down at my crotch and I see I am an adult now. My cock is hard with desire, but when I look up, Legato is gone and the only sign he has been there at all is the sound of the door shutting behind him and my rigid hard-on.  
  
I follow him down the hall but lose sight of him and turn in circles trying to find my way. Behind a red door, I hear a sound.  
  
"I'm in here," Legato murmurs in a provocative voice.  
  
I open the door. Legato is on his hands and knees in the red room with his back arched and his dimpled anus like an open invitation to me. My cock is so hard, I step forward to take him.  
  
"Fuck me, Hornfreak," he says with his head twisted back to look at me over his shoulder. "Where's Silvia? Where's your horn, Hornfreak?"  
  
I look down and see I am wearing a white dress I lift the skirt and see the thatch of my cunt. I blink my eyes and begin to look again, but the sound of his voice distracts me. It is coming from behind a pink door.  
  
"I'm in here, Midvalley," his voice caresses my name like my mother's did.  
  
I open the door and I am in my mother's room. I see him lying on my mother's bed wearing the pink dress I loved so much, the one that she had died in. Legato lies with his eyes closed as if asleep and smiles with his head turned away half in shadows.  
  
"Legato," I call to him. He turns to smile at me and I see he's been shot in the head at point-blank range.  
  
"It's only a little blood. Kiss me, Midvalley, kiss me again."  
  
He rises from the bed and moves toward me. I see the white of his skull through the broken skin. It scares me and I run from him for the door. I hear the sound of footsteps outside, the scrape and stamp of heavy boots and the sound of drunken laughter.  
  
"I'm here, Midvalley. Help me," I hear him say in his soft, rich voice.  
  
I open the door on a dark night with a blue moon shining. I am seized by large rough hands and shoved, pulled and pushed down a dark alley. I register fragments, a crowd of men, stink of piss, stale beer and rank lust. I know this place from before and my heart contracts in fear.  
  
"What a pretty pink shirt," says a hoarse, drunken voice. I know that voice from before. I drag my feet and resist the pulling of the hands. I am so scared. I scream for help but no one comes. I scream again and a rough fist rocks me with a kidney punch. I hear a low rough growl in my ear, "One more scream and I will kill you first and fuck you after."  
  
I feel desperate but powerless. I start to sob because I know what happens next.  
  
"No! God, no! Don't do this!" I cry. "No, please, not again. Please!" I beg them to stop. But they are stronger than I am, there are too many of them and they don't want to stop.  
  
"Doesn't he have pretty lips, such pretty lips. He's a hornplayer. They do some fancy tricks with their mouths."  
  
Strong arms shove me to my knees. I hear his fly unzipping.  
  
"Open your pretty mouth and play a tune on me," he demands. Someone yanks my hair, my head rocks back and he thrusts his cock between my lips.  
  
"You want to play a horn again, you suck me good. Might be hard to play again if I break your teeth."  
  
He fucks my mouth with his dick and I try very hard not to gag.  
  
"Ah, ah, oh, uhnn, ah, oh," he groans his voice thick with the pleasure of his imminent orgasm.  
  
"That's a great tune, Jimbo. He can play me next."  
  
"Why should you wait, he has another opening, stupid."  
  
Jimbo comes, flooding my mouth. "That's good eatin', boy. Get his pants down, Roscoe. Got two more customers for you."  
  
I hear a new voice, avid with lust. "Look at his pretty white skin, all soft like a whore's. Bet you know some whore tricks. Open wide, pink shirt," and he shoves his prick down my throat, and gasps as I start sucking in fear for my life.  
  
Behind me, hands are on my ass and I hear the voices, "Feel that skin. That can't be no man's ass. If he didn't have balls I'd swear he was a girl. Ooh, baby, I wanna be in you an ile!" I feel a sharp tearing sensation as the man forces his cock into me. "Oh, God, it's so hot and tight" he moans. " It's better than a woman. What shall I call my pretty pink whore? I want to sing you a love song," he says as he rams me hard. "All pink and white like that lady from the whorehouse, yeah, Silvia, that was her name."  
  
"Suck me, Silvia, with your pretty pink lips," says the voice in front of me.  
  
Inside I feel like my soul is dying, but I suck him like a whore. I don't want to die.  
  
"Oh, Silvia, I love to fuck your pretty white ass. I'm coming Silvia. S-s- silvia. Oh-o-h, aa-ah, unnnhunnh!" groans the voice in back.  
  
The one in the back is pounding into me so hard, my teeth catch on the cock I am sucking. He pulls out of my mouth and punches me so hard, that I lose consciousness but wake to hear them talking.  
  
"Get the choke chain, Ike. This fucking bitch bit me. Gonna teach this goddamn dog a lesson. Don't bite your master." They beat and punch and kick me, until their arms and legs are tired.  
  
"Man, he's all over blood and cum. Glad I fucked him already. He ain't so pretty now."  
  
"A ho's a ho. Pretty don't matter. He's just getting' broke in. This'll be some easy ridin'. I get hard just thinking of all the jism that got pumped in his hole and I'm gonna add my load."  
  
Someone throws a chain around my neck.  
  
"Back up on your hands and knees, bitch. Get up, dog."  
  
I hurt so bad I can hardly move, but the hands on the chain start to pull it tight. My vision starts to go dark. I am so fucking scared they will kill me, I somehow get to my knees.  
  
"That's the way, bitch."  
  
My head is wobbling and my body is trembling, but I try to stay still as a statue, afraid they will kill me if I faint. I am helpless to stop them. I have no control.  
  
"Now stay on all fours like a good dog. Mount up, Roscoe. Open your mouth for Ethan, Silvia."  
  
I obey. Even when he calls me by my mother's name and my heart is breaking and I want to kill them all so bad, I can taste it, I still want to breathe.  
  
"This 'uns a good bitch. Like a goddamn pointer dog, just like a goddamn bird dog. Didja ever see anything like it?" They both laugh and laugh and fuck me hard until my mouth and ass overflow with come. Finally they stop and the alley empties but I am still on my hands and knees waiting for the next. I lose track of time, but I'm a good dog so I wait patiently for the next. They trained me well. I obey because I'm a good dog and I don't bite. After I don't know how long waiting, finally my body gives out and I fall to the ground. Maybe they'll kill me and maybe they won't. I just don't care any more. My eyes overflow with tears. 


	15. Lacerations

Lacerations  
  
With my tears still falling, I feel the pressure of the choke chain on my neck again. The alley is quiet, there is only one of them and I want to live so I struggle with my attacker in the dark.  
  
"Back off, fucker. Touch me, and I will kill you," I say fiercely, and elbow back hard into his gut. I hear him groan with pain, but the pressure on my throat continues. I turn to face my attacker and kill him with my bare hands if I have to, when the light came on and I saw Nick on his knees in the bed with the end of my bandage in his hand. He was hunched over as if in pain and the lamplight showed the gleam of tears on his cheeks.  
  
"Your bandage came loose," he said to me in a husky voice. "It was starting to choke you. I was trying to help."  
  
My heart was still racing from the memories evoked by my dream. My emotions were still so raw and out of control, I turned away from him and swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat with my elbows on my knees. I felt unmanned and ashamed and I could not master the feelings of vulnerability that swept through me as my eyes still stung from fresh tears.  
  
I felt Nick's hand on my shoulder and I shook it off. "Don't touch me."  
  
It hurt to say it, but it felt right somehow. What had come over me? I stared at the floor while the memories of my rape and the images of Legato flashed in my brain. I lost track of time as silent tears slid down my cheeks to fall on the floor between my bare feet. Two nights of Legato in my face and I was losing it.  
  
Finally I began to register the sounds in the room. I heard Nick's steps on the floor and saw his feet in front of me on the floor.  
  
"At least, let me take a look at that cut for you, Midvalley," he said.  
  
"Okay," I said.  
  
"You should put a blanket around you. I don't want you going into shock again."  
  
I was cold and my arms and legs were covered in gooseflesh. I sat on the bed, crossed my legs under me and pulled the blanket around me.  
  
Nick didn't say anything to me. His hands were impersonal as they touched me and that was a blessing for once. He unwound the bandage while images from the dream kept flashing in my mind.  
  
"The wound is healing fine. I guess the bandage got loose when you were thrashing around in your sleep. I'm going to leave it off. What's going on with you, Midvalley," Nick asked.  
  
"It was just a bad dream. I'm fine."  
  
"Can you tell me about it?"  
  
"No need. I'm fine."  
  
"Can you tell me what happened with the razor last night?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"It was an accident."  
  
"Do you want to make love?"  
  
"No!" I said, a little more forcefully than I intended.  
  
Nick let out a harsh sigh of frustration.  
  
"Midvalley, we need to talk."  
  
"I don't want to. I should go back to my apartment," I said.  
  
"Why are you acting like this?"  
  
"You're starting to annoy me."  
  
"Oh for crying out loud, what's come over you. You're like another person."  
  
"Whatever," I said and started dressing.  
  
Nick lit a cigarette and sighed deeply.  
  
My shirt and pants on, I pulled on my shoes without tying them and got ready to leave.  
  
"I don't understand. Tell me what's going on."  
  
I pushed past him.  
  
"Don't you walk out that door," he warned me in a tense voice. His voice was angry and his posture threatening.  
  
"I never liked threats. If I walk out that door, what?" I challenged him.  
  
"Nothing," he said and his voice and body softened. He said it very quietly. "Just please don't go."  
  
I looked up and saw his eyes on me. The look he gave me seared me straight through to the heart so full of his naked need for me, that it broke the hold of the black mood had settled on me. Whatever else happened there was at least one thing I knew. I never wanted to lose him.  
  
The power of our attraction was so great that I don't remember moving towards him or him towards me. The magnetic pull of our lips was a force of its own and the electric kiss we shared re-ignited my empathic link with him. The sick feeling in my head and stomach quieted when we reconnected and I could feel him relaxing into our kiss and putting his all into it. The tenderness of his emotion for me after the bitterness of the memory of my rape unmanned me again and I found myself weeping. I was beginning to despise myself for my weakness. I wanted to run but I needed his love so badly.  
  
"Ah, Midvalley, please don't cry," he whispered in my ear, his voice choked by his own intense emotions. He guided me back to his bed, undid the fastenings of my pants, lay me back and buried his head in my crotch and began to use every trick of tongue and lips that he had learned from me to bring me gasping and moaning to the brink of climax. He stopped sucking to crawl up, straddle me and lean in to whisper in my ear.  
  
"Do you want to fuck me, Midvalley? I know what you dreamed.I don't care who's on top. I just want to get close to you."  
  
I didn't care that he had stopped so close to climax. I was miserable. I felt a lingering sadness from the reminder of my dream and tears filled my eyes again when I thought of Legato and of how much I was hiding from Nick. I hated myself for my evasions.  
  
Nick pulled me up beside him, embraced me and laid his cheek alongside mine. My tears dried. My cock shriveled. I was cold.  
  
"Let's get under the covers," he said. "It's cold in here."  
  
We sat up against the headboard of the bed under the coverlet.  
  
"Let's smoke," he said and lit a cigarette and put it into my hand. He put his arm around me and leaned in to me and we smoked for a while. I tentatively reached for him through our link and was surprised by the jumble of knotted feelings I read there. Worry, hope, confusion, sadness, anger, but above all, love, though his face showed only calm. I must have smoked down three quarters of the cigarette before I started to relax.  
  
I heaved a deep sigh and said, "I ache all over. I didn't know how tense I was. If you want to have sex now, go ahead, I guess."  
  
"Just because I've been horny as hell doesn't mean I can be bought off so easily," he murmured as he stroked my back tenderly and kissed my cheek to show me he meant no offense. "I only want to have sex if you want to. Do you want to?"  
  
I didn't answer.  
  
"For whatever reason you can't or won't talk to me about what's bothering you. I respect that but I have to get this off my chest. Just let me tell you what's on my mind, and feel free to say what's on yours. I remember when you asked me to tell you why I didn't like to sleep much. You told me then that I'd feel better if I told, and you were right. I think you'd feel better if you told me what's bothering you.  
  
I sat quietly. I had no response.  
  
"I remember saying to you on the sand steamer that I thought you'd had an affair with Legato and I accused you of wanting to cover up ours in case he wanted you back."  
  
I tensed up at this.  
  
"It's okay, Midvalley. You never said you didn't. Like Legato, I'm not blind or stupid. I could see from the way he looked at you that he is attracted, and how could I blame him. What he said about your face when you are playing is true. You're way beyond good-looking and I'm not surprised that sax groupies were falling over themselves to sleep with you. I knew you had a history. And Legato is a fascinating guy. I can see how you might be attracted to him with the both of you talented the way you are and as kind as he was to you."  
  
"I did have feelings for Legato," I admitted, "but we weren't together long, only two or three weeks, and then Master Knives needed him. Once he was with Knives, he never seemed to give me a backward glance."  
  
"But he still feels something. I know he linked to you last night," said Nick.  
  
"He did," I admitted.  
  
"And you were so upset that somehow you ended up cutting your throat."  
  
"That was an accident, Nick. . I have been very tense because even though you say you wouldn't mind if Legato was watching when we made love, it bothers me. I love you like I've never loved anyone except my mother. But I still have feelings for Legato."  
  
"Oh," said Nick in a subdued tone.  
  
"It's not like what I feel for you. I'm in awe of him. It's not easy caring for him. He hates himself so much. Sometimes I hate what he can do to me. He can enter my mind even when I'm trying to hold onto a private thought and I don't want the intrusion. It's almost like." I faltered for the word.  
  
"Rape?" said Nick softly.  
  
I closed my eyes and nodded. He enfolded me in his arms and said softly, "I know you dreamed you were being raped."  
  
"It was odd, Nick. It didn't feel like a dream. It was exactly how I remembered it.  
  
"It must have been bad."  
  
"It was. The things they did to me made me want to be in control in every relationship I've had since then. I have made sure that I was the one calling the shots, even with you, until I fell in love with you."  
  
"Midvalley, I don't care if I'm giving or receiving.I just." he sighed and pulled me close and closed my mouth with a passionate kiss wet kiss that aroused me. His lips traced the red line of the cut on my neck and his tenderness awakened my emotions. "I know the difference between rape and love, Nick," I whispered.  
  
He unbuttoned my shirt and slipped it off. He was in no hurry to get laid. He seemed to value my pleasure above his and I let him take control of it. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the sensations and feelings he awakened in me. His lower lip was as seductive as ever and I moaned as I sucked it between my own lips.  
  
In response, he became more ardent than ever, caressing me and making me feel valued in a way that I had never known. He paused to oil his cock, then entered me with one slick thrust that opened my eyes. It hurt so good as he began to move in me, I closed my eyes and sighed, then heard a chuckle.  
  
"Oh, this is nice! Twice the spice. I always liked our link and now I like it more. Mmm."  
  
It was Legato. He gasped when Nick began to thrust deeper.  
  
"Not used to seeing you on the receiving end, Hornfreak, but I can feel the pleasure he takes in you. Was it the lower lip that did it for you or the nipples? It had to have been. Mmmm."  
  
I heard Legato moan and chuckle again.  
  
"Stop it," I said, "No more!" I lost my focus and Nick paused in his stroking.  
  
"What's wrong Midvalley? Am I hurting you?" he asked.  
  
I shook my head, "It's Legato."  
  
"Remember Caine and Pitts? How they didn't hear a word he said? Concentrate, Midvalley. Feel what I'm feeling, Midvalley. It's just like the music you play. Concentrate."  
  
Just like the music, Nick said. It was true. No one could link to me while I was playing, not even Legato with all his power. I concentrated more deeply on the sensations Nick was giving me and thought of the song I had been writing the day before with Nick on my mind. I linked to Nick as if he were Silvia and Nick became my instrument. The song I played in my mind was Nick's song and the song I played was Nick.  
  
The link between us opened wide and feeling and sensation flowed between us so electric, so alive. I opened myself to every feeling Nick gave me and gave it back to him.  
  
Legato was trying to find an opening.  
  
"Wait," said Legato.  
  
I reveled in the exquisite sensation of Nick's tongue on my nipple.  
  
"Horn." Legato's voice grew fainter and fainter.  
  
I shivered in delight as Nick slid his hands over my chest and around my back, hugged me to him while he bore down and pushed his cock in and out of me.  
  
"Frea"  
  
The feel of Nick's hands on my ass was driving me crazy.  
  
"k."  
  
I pressed ever closer to Nick. Tenderness and passion and love flowed through our link until at last in the act we were one body, one heart, one mind, one soul. I came with a cry in a hot jet of sperm and moments later, Nick's body spasmed as if he were in pain, but the sensation I felt through the link was intense pleasure.  
  
In a couple of moments, Nick pulled out of me and stretched out on his back beside me. His face had been transfigured by his experience, he was handsome, sexy as hell and wearing a broad grin of satisfaction. I think mine was just as broad and just as satisfied.  
  
"God, it's good to see you looking happy again, Midvalley. You had me worried."  
  
"Guess that's what happens when the sperm backs up into my brain."  
  
Nick laughed at that, "Even your sense of humor is back!"  
  
" Let's not let it go so long the next time. Celibacy is overrated."  
  
"No argument there," he said with a smile. "It's still cold. I'm starting to get a little sleepy. Do you still want to go back to your apartment or can we stay together a little longer."  
  
"I want to stay. Like I said, let's not let it go so long the next time. Here's hoping the next time is tomorrow morning."  
  
"Mmmm," said Nick and he pulled me to him and spooned his body around me and reached over to turn out the light.  
  
Nick whispered, "I love you," just before he dropped off to sleep. I slipped into a light doze and just as I was about to drop off into deeper sleep, I heard Legato's voice very soft and small as if it were coming from a great distance away.  
  
"I'm so lonely," he said.  
  
The feelings he sent me were pain and loneliness.  
  
I sat up in bed. My sudden movement waked Nick, always a light sleeper.  
  
"Are you all right, Midvalley? he asked.  
  
"I just felt cold suddenly," I said, and it was true.  
  
"Let me warm you again," said Nick and he pulled the coverlet over both of us and wrapped me in the heat of his body . Nick drifted off to sleep again.  
  
I could not sleep. Memories of the night of the rape still filled my thoughts.  
  
I remember I was lying in the alley, lost in despair, when I heard footsteps. I was so fearful I began to push myself up to my hands and knees. My voice wobbled when I said, "I'm ready."  
  
"It's all right. I'm here now, Midvalley," said Legato's subtle voice.  
  
I remember he knelt by me and put his hand on my back. I heard a rush of wind and choked on a swirl of dust and the next feeling I knew was the comfort of a mattress beneath me and the warmth of a blanket pulled over me.  
  
"Sleep, Midvalley," I heard him whisper.  
  
I remember the feel of gentle hands on me and a warm wet cloth, washing my face and chest.  
  
I dreamed I felt soft lips on my wounds easing my pain and I heard the faintest whisper in the hollow of my ear, "Remember how I cared for you."  
  
Legato is lying naked on the bed beneath me. I kiss him as I thrust in him. The emotions I feel from him in our link are hope and fear, as I hear myself say, "I love you, Legato." He wants so much to believe me. He slips away from me and I follow him down a dark corridor.  
  
I hear Legato's voice say, "I'm ready."  
  
I am in a darkened room watching as Legato waits naked on his hands and knees. I hear a voice full of loathing say, "You disgust me. Put on the wig and coat. You sicken me as you are."  
  
Legato fits a blonde wig over his indigo hair and slips a long red coat over his nakedness. The coat is missing its left sleeve. Legato kneels and goes onto all fours. A shadowy figure approaches him from behind, lifts the tail of the coat until Legato's ass is exposed. The man puts his arms around Legato's slender waist and jams his cock into the opening presented. Through our link I can feel the pain this causes. I feel rather than hear a small moan of pain. The movement throws Legato off- balance and he reaches behind him with his right hand to touch the man behind him. I know he is afraid to speak and the small gesture of his hand is the only way he feels he can get the man behind him to be more gentle.  
  
The man hisses in disgust, "Don't touch me with that arm. Give me his arm," he commands. Legato reaches back with his left arm and the man grabs the offered hand and brings it to his mouth and kisses it as he fucks Legato's ass. Legato chokes back his pain. The man's thrusts grow more energetic and he twists the arm in the frenzy of his growing rapture. He interlaces his fingers with the left hand he is squeezing and he twists the arm harder and harder as he gets closer to his climax, then he screams out, "Vash! Vash!" as he comes and bites Legato hard on the back of his neck.  
  
I feel Legato's physical pain through the link. The man leaves Legato as he first found him, on his hands and knees. Legato stands and takes off the wig and the coat. Legato wears his hair like a mask, but I know what he feels. His body aches from the indignities he has just endured. I can feel his sense of shame at the violation of his body, heart, and soul. He weeps but in his heart despite the pain, I can feel his love for the man who has just done this to him. Legato does not know the difference between rape and love.  
  
I wake up in bed with Nick's arms curled tenderly around me, tears roll down my face. 


	16. Rivalry

Rivalry  
  
For whatever reason, my link with Legato remained quiet . I was relieved and began to hope that he would leave me alone. Nick and I took advantage of our last day off before the school week started again to strengthen our bond. All day long when I thought back to how we spent our morning, I couldn't help but smile. The intensity of our sexual release was such that I felt boneless and at peace with the whole human race. I knew the sensation was too good to last, but I planned to enjoy it to the hilt for as long as I could.  
  
After I got dressed, I asked Nick, "Is the cut on my neck really noticeable?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I can just imagine what Lenny'd say if he saw it."  
  
"At least he'd say it to your face. I can just imagine what the students will say, but they'll say it behind your back."  
  
"They can think and say whatever they want. I'm a grown man. I can handle the disapproval."  
  
I knew I'd have some explaining to do when I went out in public with the cut on my throat, but I managed to come up with a story. "Never try to shave when you're drunk." If I'd tried to cover it up with a bandage, I'm sure the students would be sure it was a hickey or a love bite. There were a couple of those located on a lower portion of my anatomy and I shivered and grinned when I thought about the way I got them.  
  
Separating was hard, even just to walk across the hall to my apartment.  
  
"I'll meet you at the dining hall in half an hour if you want to catch some lunch," I said to Nick.  
  
"Sounds good," he said.  
  
I was still feeling on top of the world when I stopped in at the Academy offices to check my mailbox. I had a letter from Lenny, asking me about when the band should show up for the graduation dance, if I planned to do any rehearsing before hand, and if I'd done anything in terms of publicity yet.  
  
Nick showed up a few minutes later. He had a piece of mail from December. I watched his face as he read it. His expression went from pleased to concerned and after he finished reading it, he folded it up, stuffed it back in the envelope and into his breast pocket from which he retrieved a cigarette and a book of matches.  
  
"Bad news?"  
  
"Mostly good. It's from Ginnie," he said as he lit the cigarette and took a drag. "She met the little girl Molly's age that had just lost her mother. The girl's name is Annie. They've gotten very close and it looks like Ginnie will adopt her."  
  
"That sounds like great news. Why were you frowning?"  
  
"Was I?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"They're having trouble with a piece of machinery that broke down. Air cooler."  
  
Nick looked a little distracted.  
  
"I need to get into town today," he said. "I really ought to send a wire."  
  
"I should go too. Lenny reminded me I ought to arrange for some publicity for the dance. If we can get enough paid admissions, it will probably cover the cost of booking the Midvalley Five. I'd just as soon not go out of my own pocket to cover the expense.  
  
"You want a ride in?  
  
"Yeah, please, Nick. I'm going to be so busy the rest of the week with classes, I probably won't have another opportunity to handle things."  
  
"Same for me."  
  
We both had breakfast for lunch.  
  
Nick was pensive as he munched his toast..  
  
"What do you think the odds are for me getting my bonus pay, Middie?"  
  
"I'm sure you'll get at least a partial bonus. Results have been good out on the weapons range, but unless you can get better numbers from Ben Evans and more participation from E.G. Mine, I don't think you'll get your full bonus. But you've still got almost two full weeks to get that under control. I'd like to bonus too. I could really use the extra money."  
  
"Since when, Midvalley? You've always been so prudent."  
  
"If I'm not going to be on the road so much, I got an idea I'd like to get a place of my own. Maybe put in a little studio to record some of my new tunes. Buy some lost technology. I hear there are some recording systems available if you have the double dollars."  
  
"So you have big dreams. That's great, Midvalley. Do you think you'll get your full bonus?"  
  
"It's iffy. The biggest problem I have is Grey Nine-Lives. He has a hard time following directions, as you know, and if he doesn't score a passing grade in Strategy and Tactics, I'll probably only get a partial bonus and a partial is nowhere near as good financially."  
  
"I had an idea the other day when I was blowing stuff up," said Nick. "I am going to increase my hazard pay and bonus potential by taking my class out and showing them how to use explosives. Most guest instructors don't want to take the chance, but I re-read the fine print in the teaching contract and I couldn't help noticing that there's a lot of money available if you have the guts to teach an explosives class and survive it. I'll get a bonus of $$5000 if 100% of the class passes with a grade of 70% or better, and the hazard pay is an additional 20%. That would net me 6000 double dollars for teaching the explosives alone. And it shouldn't take long to get them at an adequate level."  
  
"I know you've got guts, but you must be desperate for money, Nick. It only takes one little mistake with explosives to kill you. Look out for Grey. If there's any area where full attention is essential, it's explosives."  
  
"I'll keep your advice in mind, but I know they're just going to love it."  
  
When we finished the meal, we headed into town. I went to the print shop office and ordered a ream of flyers advertising the dance. The print office clerk was excited when he saw the ad.  
  
"The Midvalley Five, and you're Mr. Midvalley," he said."I saw you play over in Mei City the other night. That was some fine music! I know a couple of kids who'd be happy to post the flyers for you at saloons, coffee shops, shopping plazas and the like for about $$10. They're my boys as a matter of fact, and I can guarantee you that the flyers will be posted right and not end up in a circular file. I'll want to take my wife out dancing. We met at the dance you played at, how many years has it been now? Twelve is it?"  
  
Nick met me just as I was exiting the printer. He looked more relaxed.  
  
"Did you want to get a beer, Nick? It's pretty hot."  
  
"If you're buying."  
  
"Are you broke again?"  
  
"Hey if it bothers you that much, let's just go back to the academy then. I really ought to get ready for the weapon range anyway."  
  
"I didn't mean anything by it, Nick. You picked up the tab at the White Cat."  
  
"And your playing paid for the window I broke."  
  
"Oh for God's sake, I just want to have a beer with you. I'm sorry I questioned you about it. It's none of my business what you do with your money. I just worry about you sometimes."  
  
"Well, it's nice to know that someone cares."  
  
"Can I buy you a beer, Nick?"  
  
"Sure, Midvalley," he said with a smile that lit up his face.  
  
Over beers, we chit-chatted about plans for the next two weeks.  
  
"I'm looking forward to hearing the Midvalley Five in action again," said Nick. "You guys were so great the other night."  
  
"I'm thinking Lenny will want to rehearse some before the dance. He's been after me to finish up some new arrangements of the new songs I've been working on, but in the next two weeks, I don't know where I'm going to find the time."  
  
"Stay up late. Get up early. Drink a lot of black coffee. Smoke a lot of cigarettes and whatever else you do, don't sit down."  
  
"So was that the Chapel Quick and Dirty Guide for packing more into your day?"  
  
" It's a little brutal but it works for me."  
  
"Speaking of time, have you thought about what happens when you start working more?"  
  
"I try not to because I know I'm going to miss you like anything, Midvalley, and I hate thinking about that, but it's something I have to do. I try to pay my debts. A lot of my life is shit, but there's a piece of it I try to keep clean."  
  
"I understand, Nick. That's the way I feel about my music."  
  
"One thing I know for sure, Midvalley."  
  
"What's that, Nick?"  
  
"I'm going to consult with you as often as I can."  
  
His smile was pure sex and I couldn't help the flush that spread over my face when I thought about "consultation".  
  
When we got back to the Academy, Nick went out to the range to assemble what he needed for the explosives class. I stayed in my apartment and worked on the song I was composing. I thought of it as Nick's song, since my thoughts kept drifting to him as I played and the musical phrases that came to me, reminded me strongly of him.  
  
I heard a soft knock on the door later that evening. It was Nick. I was glad to see him again.  
  
"I'm here for a consultation, Midvalley," he said with an innocent smile.  
  
I pulled him into my room, closed the door behind me and we made love again.  
  
Nick stayed most of the night but he was up before dawn. He had to be at the weapon range early.  
  
I slept in until 10, got cleaned up and breakfasted. Before I got to the classroom at about a quarter to one, I ran into Chapel the Evergreen.  
  
"Midvalley, there will be a special assembly this afternoon at three o'clock to welcome a new guest instructor. It will be held outside at the combat practice field. Please make sure your class arrives on time."  
  
"What's so special about a new instructor? No one ever welcomed me."  
  
"The instructor is a total stranger from a different school and Master Legato wants to make sure he feels welcome. That's all I know, " said the Evergreen. He seemed a little nervous and a bit upset. He wasn't used to being left in the dark about things that would affect the running of the academy.  
  
The classroom was empty. The students hadn't returned from weapon range yet. But then I heard whoops, whistles and bellows and a voice, shouting, "That was so fuckin' COOL!!!! I love to blow shit up!!! Best fuckin' day in my whole fuckin' life. The guy's a goddamn genius."  
  
It was Jake Berkis. His usually black bowl-cut hair was caked with sand and his dark eyes were full of excitement.  
  
Most of the students were pumped up.  
  
"I can't believe it." Bernie Welch shook his head, "Unbelievable, man. I can't believe he had the patience to teach us, especially after that explosion. He coulda been killed. Chapel is just so unbelievable. Is he scared of anything?"  
  
"I don't think so," said Berkis. "I love what he said at the range today. 'Sometimes an automatic and an attitude are all you need.'"  
  
"And the way he handled himself in that fight at the saloon," Welch continued, " he just wades in, picks out the biggest guy there and cleans his clock. Didn't think twice, and that guy had muscles. Probably double his weight and Chapel doesn't think twice. Unbe-fuckin'-lievable!"  
  
Even Ned Pitts overcame his usual terseness and had a few good words to throw in for Chapel, "He helped Caine. I like him."  
  
I saw Zazie and EG. Mine with their heads together and wondered if they were cutting Nick any slack after he'd helped out at the saloon brawl.  
  
Ben Evans said, "When I saw Mr. Midvalley go up on the bandstand, at first I thought he was trying to stay out of harm's way. I think maybe he wears that pink pastel shirt to fake people out. I didn't know he could kick high like that. Surprised the hell out of me."  
  
"Not much of a boxer, though. I didn't see him throw a single punch," said E.G. Mine.  
  
"He's a musician, duh!" explained Bernie. "He was saving his hands and his mouth. He can't play his sax without them. If you know how to use your elbows, feet and knees the way he does, you don't need to punch. He's not just another freaky wuss who has to use his special powers to get him out of trouble."  
  
"Are you insulting me, Welch?" said Zazie.  
  
"What? Do you think that every mention of a freaky wuss refers to you? I always thought you were vain. Now I know it. You must think that every conversation is about you. Is that why you're face is so red? Oh, no, that was from the paintballs," Welch burst into laughter.  
  
"Fuck you, Welch," said Zazie. "Comes the quick draw tournament, you are going down."  
  
"Ooh, sc-a-a-rry. If I hadn't seen your 'quick'draw, already, I'd be shaking in my boots. Did you finally get the red paint scrubbed off your teeny wienie, Zazie? Maybe you'll be going down. I've been taking the quick draw classes Chapel offered that you turned down. But don't worry when you lose, beast boy. You look good in red."  
  
"You're going to pay for that remark, Welch."  
  
I overheard E.G. Mine talking to Zazie a few minutes later.  
  
"Maybe you should swallow your pride and ask Chapel for lessons."  
  
"Maybe you should go fuck yourself. I've practiced and practiced and I know I'm really good. There's no fucking way I would ever ask him for lessons. He shouldn't have beaten me. It was a fluke. He's old and his reflexes aren't as good as mine."  
  
"Old or not he beat you. What if you're practicing wrong? There is such a thing as experience. I've seen Welch practicing and he is definitely going to give you some competition in the quick draw."  
  
"You sound like you're on Chapel's side, Mine. If you're going to spend the next couple of weeks kissing his ass, fucking forget you. After you shit your pants in the can, it's a wonder I talk to you at all. I notice you stopped wearing your weapon suit out to the range. Did Chapel disapprove of it," Zazie finished his speech with a mocking tone.  
  
" I still hate his guts, but some of what he said about weapons made sense to me. The more weapons you know how to handle, the more effective you can be, but sometimes 'all you need is an attitude and an automatic.'"  
  
"I can't believe you're fucking quoting Chapel to me. I guess you're falling in love with him."  
  
"Screw you, Zazie. I'm no fag."  
  
"You sound like one with that weird way you talk."  
  
"Oh, you're a big talker, shorty, but I saw your dinky dick in the john and Welch was right when he called it a teeny wienie. And it was red too."  
  
"You want to eat it? I can't believe you were checking out my dick. You are a fag for sure."  
  
I laughed to myself when I heard this.  
  
"You're so chickenshit. You ought to get over your prejudice, Zazie. He was wrong about my weapon system, probably because it's so unique, but I have to say that when it comes to traditional weapons, Chapel really knows his shit."  
  
I reminded myself to tell Chapel about Mine's compliment.  
  
Then it was class time and I spent the next hour and three quarters teaching the theory and practice of writing and filing field reports. Much as I had come to loathe the four hour report, Leonof, Legato, Chapel the Evergreen and Master Knives found them to be practical sources of intelligence. At a quarter of three, I ended the class and told the students to head on over to the combat field for the assembly.  
  
Nick and his weapons class students were already seated in the bleachers at the field when I arrived. Nick's hair was full of sand and grit. His suit was covered in dust and smelled of cordite. He waved at me, grinned, stood up and headed over to me. I knew by the smile on his face he'd had a good time teaching.  
  
A few minutes later, I saw Legato arrive. To my surprise, he made his way straight to where I was standing. He looked at the red cut on my neck with concern. In front of Nick and the entire class he put his arms around me and gave me a friendly embrace.  
  
"I'm glad you're all right, Midvalley. I was worried about you. That's a nasty nick," he said with a sidelong look at Chapel.  
  
My face flamed red and to my complete surprise, my cock rose. What the fuck was this?  
  
"You're pleased to see me, I can tell," Legato positively purred.  
  
He released me and turned his attention to Nick.  
  
"You're looking a little sloppy this afternoon, Chapel, but I understand you've been working miracles on the weapon range. You're bound and determined to get that bonus. That's what we like to see. I understand you will be co-teaching the next strategy and tactics class with Midvalley. I heard the subject is emergency field reports. If anyone is a master of that underused art form it's yourself. Since you're teaching that segment, it should be short but sweet."  
  
"By the way, Chapel," Legato continued, " after Master Knives read the field report of the incident at New Junction, he expressed some curiosity about what motivated you to try to save the life of the child."  
  
Nick seemed taken aback by the question, but responded quickly enough, "Master Knives' credibility had been damaged by the actions of the Crimson Blades gang. I felt that if one of his representatives made a gesture of good faith, it would help to restore the good relations he has enjoyed."  
  
"Oh, come, Chapel. That's a classroom answer and I doubt that it's the real one. The decision was made in a split second."  
  
"All right," said Chapel, "I don't know why I did it. It was instinct."  
  
"You have an instinct for self-sacrifice?"  
  
"Oh, please. It was a one-time thing. It will probably never happen again."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really," shrugged Nick.  
  
"Well, you have attracted the interest of Master Knives. He is searching for an agent with special qualifications for an important assignment. You are by no means the only candidate, but if he selects you, Master Knives will brief you personally."  
  
Legato saw Nick's father approach the podium, and said, "Ah, here is Chapel the Evergreen, to do the honors for our new guest instructor."  
  
"Class and distinguished instructors and guests," began Chapel the Evergreen "We are honored to have Master Legato with us today. "  
  
The students applauded enthusiastically for Legato and I followed suit. Nick appeared to be brooding over something and did not clap.  
  
"We are also honored to have guest instructor who will be joining us the last two weeks of the term. His specialty is teaching the martial art of the blade. Will you please give our new instructor an Academy welcome? This is Rai-dei of the Jigenzan School of Bushido, trained by the masters of Itto."  
  
A cloud of dust rose, I felt a low level sonic wave of the kind I can generate with Silvia and as the dust settled, I could make out the figure of a man standing next to the Evergreen.  
  
The man was tall and dressed like a samurai in flowing split pants and a white shirt over which he wore a fringed vest. His waist was encircled with an ornate plaited belt from which hung a sheathed katana blade "Quite the entrance," I muttered to Nick.  
  
The man pulled out the katana with practiced ease and moved into a swift graceful series of powerful movements almost like a dance. The sun shone on the sweeping blade and its flashing patterns etched my retina. The man appeared to be painting with the sunlight. Then with the same amazing speed with which he began, he sheathed the katana and bowed to the audience sitting on the bleachers.  
  
The students burst into spontaneous applause. Legato applauded politely as did I. Chapel was smoking with a look of supreme indifference on his face. After the short exhibition, the man, Rai-dei, walked towards Chapel the Evergreen who escorted him over to Legato.  
  
When Rai-dei came into the presence of Legato, he bowed.  
  
"Legato-sama," said Rai-dei. "I am at your service."  
  
Legato introduced Rai-dei to Nick and me.  
  
This is "Rai-dei the Blade. He is a combat expert from the Jigenzan school. He will teach here for the last two weeks of this month."  
  
Then Legato introduced Nick and me to Rai-dei.  
  
"This gentleman," Legato indicated me, "is Midvalley the Hornfreak. I think you two will find you have an amazing amount in common."  
  
I extended my hand and shook Rai-dei's.  
  
"What do you call that movement you do with the sword," I asked him.  
  
"It is called kata and it is part of the way of bushido as practiced at my school. The form that I have mastered is called 'The Way of the Demon's Path.' And you are Midvalley, the master of the saxophone," said the samurai. " I have heard your music. Is it true that you can generate sonic waves and create dust storms?"  
  
"Yes," I said.  
  
"So, you, like myself, are talented with the Demon's gifts."  
  
"I've never heard it put quite that way before, but I guess so."  
  
"And this is Chapel, one of the Academy's resident weapons expert," said Legato indicating Nick.  
  
Rai-dei looked at Nick with curiosity and said, "I read about you and Midvalley in the "Daily Dish" and I wondered about you. Chapel, what is your special demonic talent?"  
  
"I don't have one" said Nick.  
  
"How can this be, Master Legato?" asked Rai-dei.  
  
"I couldn't say for sure. He's not talented as you mean, Rai-dei, with psychic powers, but he is extraordinarily talented with weapons and he seems to have the devil's own luck."  
  
Legato glanced at me as he said this.  
  
Rai-dei continued, "I have long heard of the member of Evergreen's Academy who carried out the Roland Drake execution and I was hoping to meet that master and learn from him."  
  
"Ah," said Legato, "that was Chapel here."  
  
"With no special powers? How was that possible?"  
  
"Desperation is a great motivator," said Chapel.  
  
"How did it feel to look death in the eye?"  
  
"Pretty damned scary."  
  
"Are you mocking me?"  
  
"What if I am?"  
  
"Then in that case I want to challenge you to shiai, a fight to the death."  
  
Legato interrupted with his smooth silky voice, "Now, now, Rai-dei the Blade, I'm afraid it is out of the question for you to challenge Chapel to a fight to the death at the moment. Maybe you can both go at it after graduation with paintballs and kendo sticks, but Master Knives needs you both in good shape for some special assignments, so for the moment, pull in your claws, Rai-dei."  
  
Legato appeared to think for a moment, then he spoke again, "Still, if you wish to pit your skills against Chapel's, why not a contest of teaching skills?"  
  
"Chapel has taught before?"  
  
"This is his first time."  
  
"But in order to teach the Demon's Path, I need a student with demon gifts."  
  
"I believe there is a student who would be happy to learn from you. Zazie!" Legato called out, "I need a word with you."  
  
Zazie came as called.  
  
"Rai-dei the Blade, this is Zazie the Beast. Rai-dei is a weapon expert, going into competition with Chapel. He wants to teach a student with special gifts, like you, Zazie. Do you wish to be Rai-dei's student?"  
  
"In competition with Chapel?," said Zazie in his harsh grating voice. "Sure I'd love to." Then he gave Nick a look of contempt, hawked up a gob of phlegm and spat it on the ground near Chapel's feet.  
  
Before I was even aware of what I was doing, my open hand shot out and I slapped Zazie hard on the cheek.  
  
"How dare you disrespect a master of the Jigenzan school?" I said in a steely voice.  
  
Everyone standing there knew he'd been disrespecting Chapel. Though my face appeared stern, I was smiling inside, pretty much sure of how he was going to react since I'd cut off most of his options, with the way I'd phrased the question.  
  
"I beg your pardon, Master Rai-dei, I did not mean any disrespect to you," said Zazie in an unusually humble tone.  
  
"Oh, so you meant disrespect to Master Legato then? Or to Chapel? Or to me?" With each question my voice grew more forbidding.  
  
Zazie's face darkened with anger, but he stilled the emotions in a few moments and said, "No disrespect was intended."  
  
"That is fortunate, Zazie," said Rai-dei. "Otherwise, I could not accept you as my student."  
  
"But, by your leave, Master Legato, Midvalley and Chapel," continued Rai- dei, "I want to test my student to see the strength of his gifts and where he may need improvement."  
  
"Of course, you may go now," said Legato.  
  
When Rai-dei and Zazie were out of hearing range, Legato chuckled and said, "That was brilliant, Midvalley the Hornfreak. Suggestion. Intimidation. You left him with no out but to apologize to all of us, including Chapel. The words must have stuck in his throat, but you managed to coax them out. We could really use you in management. Ah, well.someday."  
  
"As for you, Chapel, no need for the long face, your extra assignments will start the week after graduation. We're delighted that we have finally found the agent we need to take on some particularly challenging missions. You'll be well compensated."  
  
With a last smile for me, Legato slid his hand across my cheek with an affectionate caress, sent an erotic image through our empathic link and I got hard again. What the hell was he doing to me? I heard his velvet laughter echo in my mind.  
  
Nick had turned out of the wind to light a cigarette. I wondered if he had noticed the movement in my pants. I touched his emotions through our link. He had noticed both times and he was in pain from it. Though his face was a mask as he smoked, his heart ached and he was very close to tears.  
  
I didn't care who was watching. I took the cigarette from his fingers and tossed it into the sand. I pulled him into my arms, put my lips on his and kissed him until I felt the knot in his heart unclench and the pain melted away. But then I didn't want to stop as he responded to my feelings, and I lost track of time and place until there was nothing else in the world except the moment of communion.  
  
Finally I heard a sigh and my concentration broke.  
  
"Man, that is just sick," I heard E.G. Mine say.  
  
"They're in love," said Ned Pitts.  
  
I opened my eyes and saw the wide eyes of all the students in the four o'clock class fixed on Nick and me.  
  
Nick and I blushed and so did the students. Even Grey Nine-Lives.  
  
The awkward moment lasted an eternity.  
  
Finally, Nick put on his best business as usual face and announced to the class, "Let's head back to the school room and in five minutes or half an hour, which ever comes first, I will teach you everything I know about writing emergency field reports. It will be a very short class. Guaranteed. Then you can spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever you want."  
  
Somehow the moment of embarrassment ended. We went back to the classroom and Nick managed to pare his lecture down from five minutes to less than a minute. It was direct and to the point, like Nick at his straightforward best.  
  
"Who, what, when , where, why. Always give a contact address and make sure the money you recover is secure. That's it in a nutshell. Class dismissed. Enjoy your afternoon."  
  
Afterwards on the way back to our apartments, I said to Nick, "I'm sorry about what happened but I couldn't help it. It's Legato again. I hoped he'd leave me alone, but he's still messing with my mind."  
  
"Mine, too," said Nick in a troubled tone.  
  
"I love you, you know," I said and reached out to squeeze his hand.  
  
"I know," he said.  
  
"Don't let it get to you."  
  
"I'll try," he said. 


	17. Closer

Closer  
  
I went to Nick's room and knocked on the door a little after we returned to our quarters. I was still feeling embarrassed by my body's betrayal, and felt the need to clear the air with Nick. When I told him not to let Legato's interference get to him, there was something about his reply that left me uneasy. Nick had seemed troubled. He met me at the door wearing a bath towel around his waist. His hair was wet and tangled. He looked preoccupied and moody. He stood blocking the door and his eyes never met mine. That wasn't a good sign.  
  
"Is this a bad time, Nick?"  
  
"What do you want, Midvalley?" he asked.  
  
"Are you going to invite me in?"  
  
He stepped out of the way, turned his back to me and walked back towards the bathroom. I entered his apartment and closed the door behind me, my heart growing heavier by the minute. Nick stopped to fish a cigarette out his jacket which was draped over a chair back. There were two chairs by the table. I sank down into one of them with a sigh. I was nervous and upset and when I felt for Nick's emotions through our link, I found he had closed himself off. Things were beginning to look worse.  
  
Nick lit a cigarette and took a drag.  
  
"Can I bum a cigarette off you?" I asked him. "I could really use one now."  
  
He pulled another out of his jacket pocket and lit it for me. Then he sighed and sat down in the chair across the table from me.  
  
Í smoked in silence with him for a while, waiting for the nicotine to kick in. Finally, I let out a deep breath and said,  
  
"What's bothering you, Nick?  
  
"Don't get coy with me. You know what's bothering me. It's what bothered me twice."  
  
"I thought you were over that. I thought you weren't going to let it get to you."  
  
"I said I'd try. But the images keep coming back in my mind. Excuse me if I seem a little confused right now. Your kiss said you love me, but your cock was telling me that Legato turns you on. You have to admit it's a hell of a mixed message. What am I supposed to think? Tell me, Midvalley."  
  
"You're playing into his hands. He wants to break us up. Listen to me, Nick. I am not turned on by Legato. When I told you he was messing with my mind, I should have made it clear, he's messing with my body, too."  
  
"I want to believe you, Midvalley," he said. "But it hurt."  
  
"I knew you were hurting and I was hurting just as much. I feel what you feel or have you forgotten that? What did you think that kiss was for in front of God and everybody? I kissed you until I felt the pain was gone."  
  
Nick turned away from me, looked out the window and took a puff of his cigarette. He didn't speak for a moment.  
  
"I feel." he began to say and broke off. "How do I put this? It isn't easy for me to trust people and I've trusted you more than most."  
  
"Do you think it's any easier for me," I interrupted with some heat, "with the life I've led?"  
  
"Probably not. But you've told me a lot of things."  
  
"More than you've told me, " I interrupted again.  
  
"You told you had a history. You told me there'd be expectations. You told me I was naïve, and Lord knows, that was the truth. You told me you have feelings for Legato and today I saw just how deep they run. Or is he "just for sex" like Lenny," Nicks voice dripped sarcasm, "and me," he finished bitterly.  
  
"That's not fair, Nick. There's been nothing between Legato and me for years and I didn't ask for this. Do you think it doesn't hurt me that you doubt my love.when I do love you." These last words came out as an agonized whisper. "Believe me. Look in my eyes, the truth is there."  
  
Nick's anguished eyes met mine and he searched them for the longest time until finally he seemed satisfied with what he found there, and then with a small sigh, he closed his eyes, slid his hand across the table and rested it on mine. I felt a small shock as our skins touched and the link between us slowly opened. I turned my palm upward and our fingers intertwined.  
  
"I'm sorry, Midvalley," he said.  
  
Such a simple apology and he could have no idea what it did to my heart. It did much to ease the ache that had lodged there since I walked in.  
  
Nick stood up, walked behind me, put his hands on my shoulders for a moment, then slid his arms down under my arms and around my chest until he had encircled me in a hug and his mouth was close to my ear.  
  
"I won't doubt you again," he murmured, then moved his lips and kissed the back of my neck. I was reassured by his words, touched by the affection of the gesture and then aroused as his hands found their way into my lap and began to stroke and explore what they found there. I turned in the chair and saw that his erection had poked the towel out at a jaunty angle. I had to smile.  
  
Nick was chuckling, his eyes hooded. Then his laughter lessened until he was wearing a faint grin of anticipation, his tongue showing between parted lips.  
  
"I am Nicholas the Blade," he announced in a voice that managed to sound funny and sexy at the same time. "I will unsheathe my sword," he said suggestively, " and challenge you to a duel." He shifted the towel around his waist until his cock was exposed. "Unsheathe your katana, Midvalley the Hornfreak," he commanded in his mock serious voice.  
  
I stood and turned to him, with my arousal pushing against the confines of my trousers. I matched his playful manner and said, "This isn't a katana, Nicholas the Blade. It's my demon sax and it's for blowing," I let go a laugh as I said the words.  
  
Nick nudged me towards his bed, unbuttoning as we went and then he laid me back on the bed and proceeded to blow me. He fingered my cock and sucked it as if it were a real sax. He must have been taking notes as he watched me play Silvia. I had to give him points for imagination and technique. I gave myself over to the sensual feelings Nick's actions sparked in me until they boiled over and I groaned with pleasure as I came in a hot burst of ecstasy.  
  
"Nicholas the Hornfreak hopes you enjoyed the concert," said Nick in a seductive voice.  
  
"I thought you were 'Nicholas the Blade?"  
  
"I have many talents."  
"That's no lie, samurai. But I see your blade is still unsheathed. Show me your kata."  
  
"You want to see my kata?" Nick's breathing was shallow. He knelt between my legs, lifted my ass and penetrated me with the slick head of his shaft. The suddenness of his movement widened my eyes and left me breathless. For a few moments, Nick shuddered as he stretched and pushed himself into me as far as he could go. He was very hard. I could not give words to the feelings that came to me from him through our link. The strangeness of the sensations lent a heightened eroticism to the act. I arched back and he softly tongued the red seam of the cut on my throat. My skin was so sensitive there that I got hard again though I had just come. I moved my head forward, found his tongue with my mouth and we kissed-hot, wet, long and deep. The passion he felt made him lose control and Nick began to move in me with a wild and abandoned, animal energy that he had never shown before, as if he were desperate for release.  
  
I opened myself as fully as I could to him and as he stroked, his opened himself more to me and I found hidden depths revealed. There were wounds and scars there; I touched them with my small healing ability and soothed the pain of his memories. His rape by Mazarov's gang and the death of Charlie were scars I already knew. At this new level of intimacy, I found deeper hurts. In his mind I saw an image of a young woman with long dark hair, deep blue eyes and a face like an angel. Then I saw another image of her lying dead on a dusty street in a blood stained print dress. Nick thrust harder into me, sweat beaded on his forehead and a single tear rolled down his cheek. I touched his painful memories surrounding this woman and knew I had succeeded in easing his distress.  
  
He sighed deeply and paused a moment to lock his eyes with mine. The tenderness of his gaze pierced me through and then he closed his eyes, took my lips and crushed them softly with his. He opened his eyes again, meshed them with mine, and resumed his fevered thrusting until with a tortured exhalation, he came. His pleasure pleasured me. In that moment I found he had allowed me into a deeper level and my mind was flooded with images of children, smiling, laughing, and playing. I heard their high-pitched voices calling his name with affection. Then the images faded. He pulled out of me, gave me one last kiss, then lay beside me with his hand on mine. I felt a quiet sense of wonder within him through our link. We had never been this close before. My heart lurched. I was drunk with the feelings of love that flooded my heart.  
  
"Mmmm, that was delicious," sighed a languid voice that was satin and velvet in my mind. "Let's do it again soon."  
  
"Legato!" I muttered angrily, and sat bolt upright in bed.  
  
"What's the matter, Midvalley," asked Nick getting up to sit beside me.  
  
"It's just what I thought would happen. He was there for the whole thing. He felt it all. He used us! I told you this would happen and it did!"  
  
"Crashed our party, did he?" said Nick and he put his arm around my shoulder.  
  
"How can you be so calm about this?"  
  
"I told you I love you and I didn't care who knows it. Would you rather not have felt what we felt just now? I think it was worth it. I've tried going without you and to me, this is better."  
  
"You didn't hear him gloating. I did. Not one half-hour ago, you were jealous as could be, and now you're okay with his voyeurism?"  
  
"You don't love him. You love me, and I know it. It makes a big difference. Anyone who'd do what he's doing-think about it, why would he do it?"  
  
"Because he can?"  
  
"It's kind of sad really. I know what it's like to feel lonely and frustrated. I think he is."  
  
And he has a lover who mistreats him I thought to myself.  
  
"I was able to shut him out the other night, Nick. Today he held back from the link just enough to be undetected."  
  
"Let it go, Midvalley. Let it go. Feel what I'm feeling," he said and he placed my hand over his heart, pressed his lips against mine and kissed me until my anger dissolved and what remained in its place was a peaceful feeling of being loved and cherished. I dozed off in the comfort of his embrace and woke up some minutes later when I heard Nick laughing softly to himself.  
  
"What's so funny, Nick," I asked.  
  
"The look on E.G. Mine's face when he saw that kiss-he looked like he couldn't make up his mind whether to throw up or take notes."  
  
"It was classic. Fascinated nausea. Did you see the expression on Ned Pitts's face?"  
  
"The look of shocked recognition, you mean. "They're in love." That was a mouthful for him. If anyone would know about being in love, it's Pitts and Caine, the way they've been face sucking."  
  
"Hey, be nice, Nick. We owe Caine and Pitts a debt of gratitude, for last night anyway."  
  
"The biggest surprise for me was seeing Grey Nine Lives blush. I didn't know he or it was capable of it. Now that shows he was paying attention for once. Just get the one that was blushing to take the strategy and tactics test and I think you'll earn yourself that bonus, Midvalley."  
  
"Thanks for the tip, Nick. I'll do that."  
  
"Are you hungry, Midvalley?"  
  
"I could eat."  
  
"I'm starved. I didn't have lunch today and its spaghetti night at the dining facility. If we head over there soon, we may get there before all the sauce is gone."  
  
"Let's throw some clothes on and go."  
  
There was plenty of meat sauce left, and over spaghetti and garlic bread, we discussed the events of the day.  
  
"So tell me about the 'explosion', Nick. I heard you 'coulda been killed.'"  
  
"Ah, you know students. They like a drama. It wasn't that big a deal. I was training with the rocket launchers and everyone was going to be able to take a couple of shots or so. They were supposed to wait for me to supervise before shooting them, but you know how cocky Zazie is. I was keeping a close eye on Grey at the time. He finished so I turned around to get the next student in line and I saw Zazie and said, 'shit'. That rocket launcher was damned near as big as he was and even though the recoil is fairly low with that weapon, I could tell because of his size and weight that the recoil was gonna dump him on his ass. It did and the rocket went roving. It got really near the wagon that had the dynamite on it. Thank God those missiles move so slowly. I was able to blow it up with the .50 cal before it got too close to the truck, so everyone is still alive. I think he was embarrassed by what happened out at the range, so he's pissed off at me again."  
  
"He's pissed off? You have no idea how satisfying it was to slap that little fucker. He's been asking for it since we got here. But pissed off as Zazie was, I think you've got a bit of a convert in Mine. Or at least had. I don't know how he's gonna act towards you after witnessing the kiss, but at least earlier, I overheard the two of them talking today and here's a quote, 'When it comes to traditional weapons, Chapel really knows his shit." Oh and best of all he claims he wants to master more weapons systems."  
  
"That's good news as far as the bonus goes and I think I'm close to solving the Ben Evans' problem. Would you believe it could be his eyes? It turns out he never was tested on that part of the intake physical that new students get. Some kind of mix-up with his paperwork that day. If he just needs glasses, there's a really good chance he'll pass and I'll get my bonus. He's going in tomorrow for an eyetest. And I gave instructions to get him the glasses the same day if that's the problem."  
  
"Well, if anyone deserves a bonus, it's you, Nick."  
  
"Caine was out training Ned Pitts again. They are quite the pair. There hasn't been a sniper candidate this strong since Caine. I think Pitts is every bit as good as Caine. They were way out to hell and gone today. Caine was teaching speed drills and those bottles kept pinging. There were about 30 bottles set up. They had to have been at least three miles away. I've never seen such speed and accuracy from that distance."  
  
"So, did you get any more evidence?" I asked. I was still curious.  
  
"Evidence?"  
  
"Is she a he or is he a she? Did you see her cop a squat or take a whiz? Come on, you see more of Caine than I do."  
  
"Sorry, Midvalley. The physical evidence is inconclusive. All I know is that Bernie Welch, Jake Berkiss, and Ben Evans all swear up and down that Ned Pitts is straight and Dominique says Caine's a woman. But I'm not going to feel him up just to satisfy my curiosity."  
  
"I'm surprised nobody else has yet, Nick."  
  
"What did you think of Rai-dei's exhibition, Midvalley? I was pretty impressed myself ," said Nick.  
  
"You looked indifferent as if you could care less. I was impressed too, but I confess, I was more impressed with the kata of Nicholas the Blade than with Rai-dei the Blade's," I said with a laugh.  
  
"Speak of the devil," I murmured as I saw Rai-dei get in the cafeteria line. He got the spaghetti dinner and his eyes scanned the room. He was looking for a place to sit. He saw me and headed over to our table.  
  
"May I join you," he asked.  
  
"Sure," I said.  
  
"I've got no objections," said Nick.  
  
"Thank you.  
  
Rai-dei dug into his plate of pasta with gusto, handling the difficult noodles and ungainly meatballs, remarkably well with chopsticks.  
  
"So," I said to Rai-dei to break the ice, "how did your assessment of Zazie go?"  
  
"Well, he is remarkable. I have never met another with a demon talent like his."  
  
"What exactly is his talent?" Nick asked with a curious tone. "I always wondered."  
  
"As it turns out, Zazie the Beast embodies the collective consciousness of the insect kingdom."  
  
"Oh, that explains it then," said Nick.  
  
"Explains what?" asked Rai-dei.  
  
"Why he bugs the shit out of me."  
  
I laughed and Rai-dei asked, "Was that a joke?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"How did the teaching go, Rai-dei," I asked him.  
  
Rai-dei chewed thoughtfully on his garlic bread and then said, "It is hard to teach someone who already knows everything. As we like to say at the Jigenzan school, 'his cup is full.'  
  
"Oh, so you picked up on that," said Nick.  
  
"I tried to teach him some bladework, but he only wanted to practice his quick draw. I gave up on him for the day and decided to help his friend, E.G. the E.G. Mine. He was wearing a weapon suit with spikes that shoot out. I think he wanted to impress me. It was very impressive. But I noticed a couple of design flaws and told him that a really quick opponent could disable his triggering mechanism and body armor."  
  
"I told him the same thing, but he didn't take it well," said Nick.  
  
"He didn't seem to take it well from me either. He called me a."  
  
"Chickenshit?" suggested Nick.  
  
"Yes!" exclaimed Rai-dei. "Immediately I went to Legato-sama to ask if I could challenge E.G. the E.G. Mine to shi-ai, but he said no. This is very different from the Jigenzan school. Two students who already know everything. I confess it also puzzles me how he is able to relieve himself safely."  
  
Nick and I exchanged looks and sniggered.  
  
"Ah, not very well," said Rai-dei.  
  
"What did you think of Zazie's quick draw?" I asked.  
  
"He is lightning fast. His reflexes are second to none. None but you, Chapel. I understood from E.G. the E.G. Mine that you beat him. The Masters of Itto instructed me in the Way of the Demon's Path. The path you trained in must be very powerful. In what Path were you trained, Chapel?"  
  
"I was trained by Chapel the Evergreen in the Path of the Average Guy who practices a lot."  
  
I smiled and shook my head at that.  
  
"Is that another joke?" asked Rai-dei.  
  
"Not really," said Nick. "When I was Zazie's age, I practiced a lot. I guess I still do."  
  
"The Masters of Itto put great emphasis on practice, so perhaps Zazie is doing the right thing."  
  
"You suppose right, Rai-dei. The teaching contest hinges on who wins the Quick Draw contest."  
  
"I did not know that. Legato-sama did not mention anything about a reward for winning the teaching contest. Is it just for glory or is there a financial reward?"  
  
"Don't tell me you need money too?" I chuckled.  
  
"Well, it helps us make our way through this world," said Rai-dei.  
  
"Well, Rai-dei, even if Zazie or Mine aren't interested in learning bladework, I'd like to take some classes from you. What weapons do you teach?" I asked him.  
  
"The katana, the short sword, shuriken, throwing knives, axes, spears, long and short."  
  
"I know I'm your teaching rival, thanks to Legato," said Nick, "but I'll learn from you, Rai-dei, if you've no objections."  
  
"I cannot teach you the Demon's way, but I can show you what I have learned."  
  
Rai-dei mopped the last of the spaghetti sauce off his plate with a piece of garlic bread and finished his dinner.  
  
Midvalley the Hornfreak," he said, "I hope I am not too forward but I am a great fan of your music."  
  
"Really?"  
  
He reached into his tunic and pulled out a copy of "Hornfreak Gold, handed it to me and asked, "Could you please autograph this for me?"  
  
"With pleasure. What should I write?"  
  
"To my friend, Rai-dei the Blade."  
  
I signed it, "To my very good friend, Rai-dei the Blade, Midvalley the Hornfreak."  
  
When I handed him back the mini album and he held it in his hands and looked at what I wrote, I could see he was excited. He got up and bowed to me.  
  
"Thank you very much, Midvalley the Hornfreak," he said.  
  
"Whatever else," said Nick, "you have great taste in music. I'll grant you that."  
  
"I saw flyers at the sand steamer depot, Master Midvalley," said Rai-dei. "You will be playing here live, it said."  
  
"Yeah, if nobody kills me first," I laughed.  
  
"What?" said Rai-dei. "Oh. That was another joke."  
  
"We do have a dangerous profession," said Nick.  
  
"Yes we do," agreed Rai-dei.  
  
We spent the next half-hour talking shop. Five minutes in, Nick and I realized we were dealing with a total professional who had learned the ropes the hard way. We respected his experience.  
  
Some fifteen minutes into the conversation, Nick said, "It's obvious that you know your job, Rai-dei. Why have you come to Evergreen's Academy. The Masters of Itto have trained you well."  
  
"I have mastered the art of the Demon Blade, but I have not yet mastered bushido, and while bushido is my master, so must I serve it. And that is why I have come into the service of Master Knives."  
  
Then Nick said something that struck me.  
  
"If you truly want to master bushido, you should probably be looking to measure yourself against the one who put Master Knives in the condition he's in."  
  
Rai-dei nodded his head. "That is my wish," he said. "Sometimes I think that Master Legato is the strongest of them all, but he has a fatal weakness."  
  
Nick and I looked at each other and then at Rai-dei.  
  
"He is as loyal as a dog," said Rai-dei.  
  
There was a long uncomfortable silence after this remark which Rai-dei finally broke. "Well, I saw some spumoni ice cream when I got my spaghetti. I think I will get a bowl for dessert."  
  
"Good-bye, Rai-dei," said Nick. "I'll see you about the blade lessons soon."  
  
I added my good-byes and left with Nick.  
  
On the way back to our quarters Nick said, "I'm turning in early tonight. I'm giving Bernie Welch his fourth quick-draw class tomorrow morning. I gave him an hour's worth today before the rest of the class showed up.  
  
"How do you rate his chances?"  
  
"Hard to say, Midvalley. If enthusiasm could win a quick-draw contest, Welch would take it hands-down. He's got talent, but nowhere near as much as Zazie. Zazie's a natural, but even a natural can benefit from teaching. My father taught me and he is a good teacher, I have to say, but very hard to please. For the longest time all I wanted was to make him proud of me, but I always fell short. Except for the Drake hit.  
  
Teaching out at the range," Nick continued, "I'm remembering a lot. I practically lived out there. There wasn't a weapon system I didn't want to master. I couldn't begin to tell you how many practice rounds I squeezed off. I ate, drank, breathed and dreamed firearms. It's an ingrained reflex now."  
  
"The Way of the Average Man Who Practices a Lot?"  
  
"That's right, Midvalley, and I think it's the only chance that Bernie Welch has."  
  
We walked up the steps to our quarters.  
  
"Did you want to spend the night, Nick?"  
  
"I would, but you'll want to do some composing, I think."  
  
"I do. But one thing. When we were linked today, I saw the image of a woman in your mind. She had long black hair, blue eyes and the face of an angel. Who was she?"  
  
"My mother," said Nick.  
  
"I thought so. What was her name?"  
  
"I don't remember," Nick said.  
  
"Those children, who were they?"  
  
"Just some kids I met at the orphanage. Goodnight, Midvalley."  
  
I was still working on my songs hours later when I heard a knock on my door. It was Nick.  
  
"I'm heading out for the weapon range now. Get some sleep, Midvalley," he said and gave me a peck on the forehead.  
  
I took his advice, crawled into bed and slept like a baby. 


	18. High Hopes

High Hopes  
  
The rest of the week passed in a blur. Nick was out on the weapon range every spare minute. He even had the cook make up special box lunches and had all his meals at the range. I was busy myself. I wired Lenny in Mei City. The Midvalley Four was engaged to play at the White Cat Saloon the weekend prior to graduation and then the Friday night just before. Lenny had written me that he planned to visit on Thursday. I asked him to bring me a new mouthpiece and a couple of boxes of saxophone reeds for Silvia from the Mei City music shop.  
  
I did see Nick at least once a day for the last afternoon strategy and tactics class, but after that he went straight back to the range. The week before finals was devoted mostly to the topics of intelligence gathering and analysis.  
  
I took Nick's advice about Grey Nine-Lives. It turned out that it was Grey #5 who had blushed when he saw Nick and me kissing, so I put Grey #5 in charge of answering all test and quiz questions. I began to see why Grey had seemed so unfocussed. Every question had been debated by nine different personalities, so he had never been able to decide on an answer. I re-tested Grey Nine-Lives with Grey #5 firmly in charge and to my delight, he passed . I began to feel secure about earning my bonus and started to search the Epril Town Crier, the weekly ad paper to see if there were any suitable houses for sale.  
  
As far as Nick's bonus went, he was well on his way to earning over and above what he had thought possible. E. G. Mine, if not a model student, overcame his repugnance to the pistol, rifle, shotgun and machine gun which he had once considered inferior weapons unworthy of his notice, and qualified with all of them.  
  
Ben Evans, wearing his new spectacles, finally managed to zero his rifle and began to rack up some solid scores, much to Nick's relief.  
  
I took two classes from Rai-dei , but quit after the second when I got whacked hard by the practice sword on my knuckles. For a few minutes, my hand went numb and I thought I might have broken a couple of fingers. My biggest concern was that I might not be able to play Silvia, but eventually, feeling returned. Rai-dei was profuse in his apologies. He advised me to postpone any further classes until he obtained some special padded gloves.  
  
I asked after Nick from Rai-dei and he told me that Nick had taken to shuriken and throwing knives as naturally as to firearms and was making decent progress with the katana. All in all remarkable progress, was how Rai-dei phrased it.  
  
Every other spare minute, Nick spent teaching Bernie Welch. Welch stood second only to Zazie in the marksmanship ranks and he had improved dramatically after only a week of Nick's special classes. Nick even persuaded Caine to give Welch some in-depth sniper training which did wonders for his concentration and breath control. By the end of the week, Zazie and Welch were tied for the marksmanship honors.  
  
I saw very little of Zazie outside of class. Even though Zazie was a thorn in Rai-dei's side, Rai-dei was taking his teaching assignment and the contest seriously.  
  
On the two occasions I went to Rai-dei's class room for lessons, I saw Zazie seated on a cushion with his legs folded into a strange position. Rai-dei told me it was called the lotus pose. Zazie appeared to be meditating deeply. It was unusual but pleasant to see him with his mouth closed.  
  
"What's Zazie doing?" I asked Rai-dei.  
  
"He is contacting the hive mind and from there he hopes to be able to tap in and harness their powers. He has always had the ability but the meditation helps him to focus his powers."  
  
"Interesting," I commented with my eyebrows raised. I was at a loss for words.  
  
I saw Legato from time to time in passing and once when he asked me for a progress report on the strategy and tactics students. He was complimentary about the improvement he had noticed in Grey Nine-Lives' test scores.  
  
I gave Nick the credit where it was due.  
  
"It was something Chapel noticed about Grey that allowed us to improve his ability to concentrate, Master Legato," I told him.  
  
I maintained a professional tone when I was with him and pleased that he was just as professional and made no allusions to the way he had toyed with me. I considered Legato as we discussed the students.  
  
He seemed quieter than usual. I was always impressed with his intellectual grasp of whatever subject he bent his mind to. The brilliance of his mind was undeniably attractive, but Nick was certainly no slouch in the mental department. His intuition was uncanny.  
  
Legato on the other hand was able to lay out the genesis and construction of the blueprint of his thought with a precise elegance that never failed to impress me. And his beautiful voice.  
  
I raised my eyes and saw Legato looking at me with the slightest upward curve to his lips. He was influencing my thoughts again. I took my leave of him, made Nick a mental apology and went back to my quarters to work on my songs.  
  
Lenny arrived as scheduled on the afternoon sand steamer from Mei City and showed up at my apartment at 6.  
  
"Where's the rest of the band hanging out?" I asked him.  
  
"We've taken rooms at the Hotel Central. I heard you playing while I was outside and I stayed out there for a while, just listening. I like that tune you were playing. That's new, isn't it? You have any sheet music for it, or will we need to wing it?  
  
I hesitated, "It's not really ready for performance yet."  
  
"Oh, come on," coaxed Lenny. "Play me what you got. You are going to take your tune out for a spin aren't you. I brought my drumsticks along."  
  
"I'm glad you thought it sounded good," I said.  
  
Lenny reached into his pocket and brought out the two boxes of reeds and the new mouthpiece. You owe me, Hornfreak. Silvia still sounds pretty, but when you have the new reed broken in, she'll sound gorgeous."  
  
"How much do I owe you?"  
  
"More than you know, but give me fifty double-dollars and we'll call us even."  
  
I took my wallet out of my jacket pocket, pulled out some bills and handed Lenny the cash.  
  
He reached inside his jacket, brought out his drumsticks and from another pocket he pulled out a small jar.  
  
"Horn polish," he smirked as he handed it to me. "Give it to Chapel. He'll know what to do with it," he said with a leer.  
  
I laughed and shook my head.  
  
"Where is Chapel anyway? Doesn't he know I'm in town. I'm surprised he's not riding shotgun on you."  
  
"Where's Dave, I'm surprised he's not riding shotgun on you what with you buying me horn polish and all."  
  
"Actually it's for Silvia, so she'll look as beautiful as she sounds."  
  
"I figured."  
  
"As far as jealousy goes, Dave and I have come to an understanding."  
  
"So have Chapel and I. We've reached a certain level of trust. He's out at the weapon range, teaching."  
  
"Isn't that a late day for him? He must be pretty dedicated."  
  
"Dedicated to making as much money as he can from his teaching contract."  
  
"Can't blame the guy. I've never seen anyone run out of cash faster than Chapel. But are you gonna stand there all day, or are you going to play me that song?"  
  
I played the song.  
  
"That's really beautiful, man," Lenny said. "Are there any others you're close to finishing?"  
  
"A few," I admitted.  
  
"Are they as good as that one?"  
  
"About the same. Hard to believe, but a few of them even have lyrics. I know we usually play straight instrumentals, but I was wondering if you know any singers, Lenny."  
  
"Male or female?"  
  
"Female."  
  
"Alto or soprano?"  
  
"I think an alto voice would match well against Silvia."  
  
"You're in luck, Midvalley. Among Dixie's other talents, she's a hellacious vocalist. She played piano in lots of saloons and whorehouses in her day."  
  
"I didn't know that about her."  
  
"I'm sure she'd love to sing it for you, Midvalley. Not a day goes by that she's not saying, 'This song would sound better if Midvalley were filling in with rhythm,' or 'Right here, this is where Midvalley's solo ought to go.' She's not the only one missing you. I don't say it out loud but I think the same thing."  
  
"How's she holding up after husband's death?"  
  
"I suppose I shouldn't spoil the surprise. She's lost another 20 pounds, dyed her hair brown and she's been wearing a lot of green lately. She looks good. If Dave and I weren't.well, you know.You know how tempting some women are."  
  
"I'd forgotten, but a few come to mind."  
  
'Intelligent, talented, sexy, spunky.yeah."  
  
"So why hasn't someone snapped her up already?"  
  
"Well, somebody has. A guitar player."  
  
"Sunny?"  
  
"His wife would kill him."  
  
"No, it's some guy who was playing with the Skip Walker band."  
  
"Randy!"  
  
"Yeah, that's him. He said you'd invited him to play at the graduation dance. He's sharing a room with Dixie. By the way, I heard about what happened to Skip Walker. You can be a pretty spooky guy, Midvalley. You didn't 'disappear' him, did you?"  
  
"I almost wish I had, but that was done by Master Legato."  
  
"Legato! I remember him from the old days."  
  
"Well, he remembers you , too. That little affair we had? Try not to piss him off."  
  
"Don't tell me.the Legendary Sax God has made yet another conquest. How's Chapel taking it? He must be freaking out."  
  
"Don't be flippant about it, Lenny. I'm warning you."  
  
"If you're trying to scare me, Midvalley, you're succeeding."  
  
"Good, because you're my favorite drummer of all time and I don't want to have to break another one in when I go on tour."  
  
"Oh, man!" Lenny jumped and did a spontaneous dance from sheer delight. "You're going on tour with us? This is the best news, ever. So you did manage to get your work load reduced. What about Chapel?"  
  
"He's working double to pay off a debt."  
  
"It's nice he wants to pay his debts, but people who are bad at gambling shouldn't get into it so heavily. You've got to learn to cut your losses at some point."  
  
"Well, that's what I used to think. Now, I'm not so sure that it's a gambling debt."  
  
"Is he coming to hear us play this weekend?"  
  
"I don't know if he can make it."  
  
"You sure you two didn't have a lover's quarrel?"  
  
"We trust each other more than ever."  
  
"Well, I still hope he shows. Dixie noticed, and I did too, when she pointed it out to me, well you always play great, but you play like you're inspired while he's around. I'd like to give you all the credit for the music you've been turning out, but since you've been with Chapel, your music has taken on.oh, I hate to sound so cheesy, but emotional qualities."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Yeah. Hey, we are going to do some rehearsal, aren't we. Do you have any plans for tonight?'  
  
"It's pretty short notice. Nick's still out at the weapon range."  
  
"And maybe he'll be there half the night. Leave him a note, Midvalley and let's go. I told the band we'd be at the White Cat by seven."  
  
"Hey, you sound pretty confident you'd get me to come along."  
  
A slow smile slid across Lenny's features, "Well, I must admit, I know my Hornfreak," he said and laughed.  
  
When we got to the White Cat Saloon, Lenny asked me, "Are the patrons as rough as they used to be?"  
  
"There was a brawl in here a few days ago."  
  
"Well, at least Miss Adelaide's big, fancy window didn't get broken."  
  
"Actually, it did. Chapel chucked a guy through it."  
  
"You must have been involved too, from the looks of those bruises on your knuckles."  
  
"I was involved, but it's not how I got the bruises."  
  
Just then, Sunny pushed through the batwing doors carrying a guitar in one hand and a dobro in the other. Dave followed close behind with Lenny's bass drum in his arms. Toby brought up the rear, with his bass and amp in hand.  
  
"Randy and Dixie'll be here in a few minutes. Dixie is trying to get a piano tuner to come in and replace a couple of dead strings on the instrument here."  
  
Sure enough, Dixie breezed through the doors minutes later, talking fast to a tall quiet man carrying a black satchel-the piano tuner I presumed. When she caught sight of me, she quit mid-sentence, sashayed over to me and said, "Bend down and give me a hug, Midvalley. You're just too tall for me. We really missed you. It sure would be nice if you could go on tour with us."  
  
"Just for you, Dixie, I'll do it," I said and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  
  
That put a smile on her face.  
  
"Lenny said it might happen but I couldn't believe it. This is fantastic."  
  
Sonny and Toby crowded in for handshakes and backslaps. They all seemed really glad to see me again. A couple of minutes later, Randy showed up with his amp and guitar. Dixie left me to inform the piano tuner of her expectations. In a couple more minutes, he was busy replacing the dead strings.  
  
At seven PM, the White Cat was deader than dead with two drunks passed out at one of the tables We started rehearsing around 7:30. The piano sounded good without any dead keys or tinny notes. By eight PM, the saloon was beginning to get crowded, unusually so for a Thursday. Miss Adelaide had undoubtedly spread the word that the Midvalley Five were rehearsing, in a bid to boost her liquor sales.  
  
At some point I noticed that another bartender had joined Miss Adelaide and was mixing drinks. The band was fairly well warmed up. Lenny seemed happy with our progress and we had gotten a lot of audience applause on our last number. Randy fit in well and was trading off on lead with Sonny.  
  
At 8:30 we took a break. Right about then, I saw Jake Berkis walk through the door.  
  
"What are you doing here, Berkis," I asked him.  
  
"Moonlighting," he responded.  
  
"I would have thought that bouncing was more in line with Ben Evans talents."  
  
"He's still out on the weapon range. Chapel's working Ben so hard, he got a blister on his trigger finger. Chapel lanced it, bandaged it, and told him to keep shooting. Chapel's not worried about my scores, so since I was free, Miss Adelaide put me on shotgun duty."  
  
The band resumed rehearsal some 15 minutes later. Our playing had reached a pretty decent level and we were working our way through the song list, when Lenny nudged me.  
  
"Come on, Midvalley. Let's play some of those songs you told me about this afternoon."  
  
"No way, Lenny. I told you they are not performance ready yet."  
  
"It's a rehearsal, Midvalley."  
  
"Not with this many people listening. And Nick's not here. I want him to be the first to hear them when they are ready, but they're not ready yet."  
  
"I can see you're a little touchy on the subject. I won't push again. I can wait. Sorry if I seemed obnoxious. The little bit I overheard just sounded so good.well, everyone loves new music, especially if it's good."  
  
"Thanks, Lenny, but there's no need to suck up. You're not budging me on this."  
  
"It's Miss Adelaide's fault," said Lenny just as she was passing with a tray full of beer steins.  
  
"What's my fault?" she turned to ask him.  
  
"You seem to have called everyone you know just to hear us rehearse."  
  
"Oh, well, now I'm a little embarrassed," said Miss Adelaide. "I didn't know I was acting out of turn. It's just that your band's rehearsals are better than most bands gigs. And a gal has got to try to make a profit when she can."  
  
"Miss Adelaide's a fan of ours, Midvalley. You'll just have to forgive her. She needed the money."  
  
We ended the rehearsal at ten. The audience groaned when they saw we were quitting. Lenny addressed them.  
  
"Be sure you all come back tomorrow to hear us again."  
  
I went over to Dixie who was flipping through sheet music.  
  
"You wanted to talk to me, Midvalley? Lenny was telling me you might need a vocalist for some songs you wrote."  
  
"That's right, Dixie. It'll mean more rehearsal for you. Are you sure you're okay with it?"  
  
"Midvalley, let me just say flat out that I would be delighted. Just tell me the time and place and we'll go for it from there."  
  
"I've got a terrible schedule," I said.  
  
"I'm flexible. To tell the truth, I'm flattered that I will be the first to hear and sing these songs. If they're anywhere near as beautiful as "Silvia's Tune", I'll consider myself privileged."  
  
We finally came up with a time that worked for both of us.  
  
I got back to my apartment around 11. A few minutes later I heard Nick's step on the stairs. I stepped out on the landing. He was whistling and taking the steps two at a time. He looked happy and wired. He grabbed me when he got to the top of the stairs, pulled me into a bear hug, lifted me and kissed me and set me down.  
  
"What are you so happy about?" I asked him.  
  
"Bernie Welch passed Zazie in the marksmanship standings today and Ben Evans finally qualified with all weapons. He actually came in ahead of E.G. Mine in the scoring and Mine also passed all required weapons. Friday is just a formality, but I really did a psych job on Zazie and Mine. I said to them, you're not going to let a couple of 'no-talents' pass you in the standings like this, are you? When I left the range fifteen minutes ago, the lights were still on and those two were still practicing. The higher the scores go, the bigger the bonus I rack up."  
  
"I swear, Midvalley, I'll never complain about a teaching assignment again. Except for being called a chickenshit, this is easy money. How has the academic end of it been going for you, Midvalley?"  
  
"Well, I'm so confident now, that I started looking at real estate ads in the paper. Saw a couple of houses that might fit the bill. Finals ought to be a snap."  
  
Nick hugged me warmly, "That's great, Midvalley. Can I stay the night. I'm pretty wound up, but I think I'll be able to get some sleep if we.well, you know."  
  
I shook my head with a grin, "I was hoping not to have to deal with Legato, but.God, you're dirty!"  
  
Nick's face flamed red and I laughed, "Oh, don't worry, I like it. I like it a lot," as I took him by the wrist and pulled him into the room after me.  
  
We both liked it. Afterwards, Nick was asleep within five minutes. It felt good to have him lying next to me, naked skin on skin. In a few minutes more I dozed off and slipped into dreamless sleep.  
  
I heard him leave around 5 in the morning.  
  
I was up at seven myself . I'd made plans to meet Dixie at the White Cat Saloon at 8 in the morning. Miss Adelaide was still in her bathrobe when she opened the door. She poured some coffee and gave me a muffin. Dixie showed up a couple of minutes later, a little bleary eyed but rosy-cheeked. It looked like she'd been up all night. I passed her the scores of my new songs and got her coffee and a muffin and as we munched and sipped, she read and hummed.  
  
"These are really nice, Midvalley," she commented.  
  
"The muffins or the songs?"  
  
"God, you're silly in the morning, Midvalley."  
  
"Chalk it up to lack of sleep."  
  
"That's probably Chapel's fault."  
  
"You're one to talk, Dixie."  
  
"Behave yourself, Midvalley. Stop flirting and let me concentrate on the music."  
  
She flipped to the last song and hummed a bit of it.  
  
"Oh, this one is pretty special, but.oh," she said as she flipped to the last page of it, "you're not quite finished with it yet."  
  
"You're right, I'm still working on the bridge and the chorus."  
  
"Really beautiful melody,"  
  
"Thanks, Dixie."  
  
"Let's get to work," she said. We rehearsed for two solid hours. I played Silvia and Dixie played piano and sang. I was thoroughly impressed with Dixie's voice and told her so when we finished.  
  
"That was wonderful, Dixie, thanks. Your voice and phrasing-well I couldn't ask for better."  
  
"It's my pleasure. I take it you're saving these tunes for the dance. I'm guessing you want Chapel to be among the first to hear it played."  
  
"That's right. But of course, the band gets first crack. I can hardly wait to see what Sonny, Randy, Toby and Lenny can add to it."  
  
"Lenny will use cymbals, snare drum and brushes for a lot of it."  
  
"Oh, crap, Dixie," I said as I got a look at the saloon clock, "thanks for everything, but I gotta run, I've got class in twenty minutes. See you tonight," I said as I hurried through the door.  
  
The students were restless as hell during all the classes. Nick and I finished our last class at five PM. When they were released from the classroom, the students were whooping and hollering with relief.  
  
Nick stopped me after class and said, "I'd like to go with you to the saloon tonight, but I'm still working with Bernie Welch. I don't think I can make it."  
  
"Don't worry about it. We're rehearsing some new songs tonight and I'd just as soon they were in better shape before you hear them."  
  
"Well, thanks for understanding, Midvalley."  
  
I showed up at the saloon at 7:30. I was surprised that none of the students showed up, except Jake Berkis, who was the bouncer for the evening at Miss Adelaide's bar again.  
  
"Hey, where are the rest of your classmates, Jake?" I asked him. "I would have thought they'd want to blow off some steam tonight."  
  
"There's a contest between the 'talented' and 'no-talent" students. Have no idea if there's money involved, but I think so. Whichever group comes out ahead on points on academics and weapon range wins. Everyone is studying or shooting. Rai-dei is also teaching Demon's Way meditation."  
  
The saloon was packed. None of the instructors showed until late. It was after 10 when Dominique arrived with Rai-dei in tow. Dominique kept trying to start a conversation and he kept shushing her. She looked as disgruntled as hell and finally left in a huff. It was a little after midnight when Miss Adelaide shooed away the drunks and die-hards. Rai-dei didn't want to go. Miss Adelaide told him, "Come back tomorrow night, Mister Rai-dei, they'll be playing again."  
  
Then she closed the doors behind him. With the customers gone, the band relaxed and we started to jam on the new songs. Miss Adelaide hummed along as she washed glasses and swept up the place.  
  
I liked the songs before we started jamming, but by the time each member of the band had made a contribution I was pleased beyond my fondest hopes. We finally quit around 3 AM. After yawning my good-byes, I took a taxi back to my place and I crawled into bed at 4 AM a very happy man. 


	19. Storing Up Memories

The week that followed was the most unusual I had experienced as a guest instructor because the contest between the "talented" students and the "no- talents" left Nick and me with precious little to do. I had never seen students so self-motivated before.  
  
The effort that Chapel had put into teaching weapon handling had paid off. The accumulated scores of all the students were the highest since Nick had been a student.  
  
I think I was equally surprised by the test scores in the Strategy and Tactics classes.  
  
When the last class was over on Friday afternoon, the students, in grand academy tradition stomped, bellowed and banged on the walls of the hallway, so relieved that the tension of finals week was ended. The noise was deafening.  
  
"Let's get out of here," I mouthed to Nick.  
  
He smiled, nodded, and we headed out the door and back to my apartment. Once behind closed doors, we did a little banging on the walls ourselves. I could sense Legato's presence at the edge of my consciousness as Nick and I began but soon I forgot about him. I was so into what Nick and I were doing to ease our tension that when we reached the peak, I abandoned myself to the explosion of pleasure in my brain, and clung to him panting and dripping sweat afterwards. It relaxed us both so much, that we ended up catnapping on the bed for almost an hour. Nick knew I wanted some rest before my Friday night gig at the White Cat Saloon.  
  
I woke up to the gentle stroke of his hand on the skin of my shoulders. The expression on his face as he watched over me was a little wistful.  
  
"What are you doing, Nick?" I asked him.  
  
"Storing up memories, Midvalley. I'm going to miss you."  
  
I felt a pang in my heart and the start of tears in my eyes. He could see I was affected. Still I laughed off the mood.  
  
"For God's sake, have pity on me, Nick. Let's make a pact. Promise me that you won't even think of it again or mention it until we say good-bye. We've got tonight and tomorrow to store up memories. Let's not make them sad ones."  
  
"You're right, Midvalley. We'll still be consulting partners."  
  
"And don't you forget it, my friend."  
  
Still he looked a little low and I wanted to make love to him then and there if only to put a real smile on his face again. I reached for him, but he just gave me the ghost of a smile and said, "You've got a gig tonight and there's only just enough time to get ready and have a bite to eat before we go. There's always tomorrow."  
  
We got ready for a night on the town. I wore a burgundy crushed velvet suit with a pink silk shirt. Nick looked elegant in his classic black and white. We stopped in at the dining facility for a meal before heading over to the saloon. We were about the only ones there except for Caine and Pitts off in a corner by themselves. They ate slowly and gazed at each other intently.  
  
I could not help noticing that Pitts had taken some care with his appearance. He had shaved the blue growth of beard that always appeared so rapidly on his face. His hair still wet from a shower was slicked back in a pony tail. His shirt and jeans were denim. He wore a brown leather vest with a thin red bandana knotted around his neck.  
  
Caine was dressed in a new buckskin jacket. I tried to imagine a woman's figure under that jacket as I took a forkful of pot roast. It was getting easier. There was something willowy and feminine in the way Caine's legs were crossed.  
  
Nick turned in his chair to see what I was staring at, then looked back at me with a grin.  
  
"Still trying to fathom the mystery, I see."  
  
"As always," I replied.  
  
From my seat I saw Dominique come through the door. Her eyes went immediately to Caine and Pitts. She seemed disappointed by what she saw, but she got in the cafeteria line, had the cook dish her up large portions of everything and then arrived at our table with her heavily laden tray.  
  
"Hey, Dominique," I said, "always good to see you again. You remember Chapel," I said as I indicated Nick.  
  
"I've heard a lot about you two," she said as she took her coat off and sat down.  
  
"Why's your tray so loaded up, Dominique?" I asked her.  
  
"Free food, Midvalley. I'm back in the land of free food. The good old academy, but I think you'll find the price is higher than you think, Chapel."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked her.  
  
"I get all the gossip, Chapel, and I heard you need to work off a debt, but you don't know what I know."  
  
"What do you know?" he asked.  
  
"I know from experience that Master Knives and Legato reserve the shittiest assignments for the neediest agents. You'll find you're caught in a squeeze between your creditors and your employer. You're basically the shit in a shit sandwich. I swear, some days, fucking for money would give me more pleasure than what I am doing."  
  
"Can you give me an example of what's so bad?" Nick asked with a vaguely worried look.  
  
"Are you joking?" said Dominique. "It's all hush-hush, top-secret crap. Loyalty and success. Loyalty and success. God when I think back to how Legato soft-soaped me, I could kick myself for my stupidity. 'I doubt you're concerned about mission failure, Dominique,' he tells me." Dominique had a talent for mimicry and she did a creditable job of capturing Legato's tone and inflection when she said it.  
  
"Oh, I see from your reaction that it sounds familiar, Chapel," she said.  
  
"I've known you for quite a while, but I don't think I've ever seen you so upset, Dominique. Mocking Legato isn't the smartest move, you know," I said.  
  
"Probably not, but if you'd been through what I have you'd be tense, too. I know I'll feel better when I get a couple of drinks under my belt. To tell the truth, though, I was looking for a different kind of action below the belt, Midvalley. In fact, I was hoping to spend some time with you," she said to me, "but the gossip going round is that the Hornfreak's wearing a chastity belt and Chapel here," she glanced at Nick, "holds the key."  
  
Nick blushed and said, "Hey, get your own boyfriend, or girlfriend. I'm sure Midvalley wasn't your first choice. I saw you looking at Caine when you came in. If you want to get upset, get upset with Caine, but you probably noticed that Caine appears to be in love with someone else."  
  
"Who wouldn't notice?" she said.  
  
"I saw you talking to Rai-dei last night. What's the matter with him? Not your type?" asked Nick.  
  
"Hey, I tried, but he's got a hard-on for the Hornfreak, too."  
  
"That's crap, Dominique," I said, a little irritated by her insinuation. "He's a fan and that's all. Legato's off Master Knives' leash. Since you're so hard-up and he's available, why don't you jump his bones. Maybe he'll ease up on your assignments," I said sarcastically.  
  
"Oh, fuck Legato," she said. "Oh that's right, you probably did, I heard about the hard-ons. Big news like that travels fast. Too bad for you, Chapel, but whatever Legato wants, Legato gets."  
  
I could tell Nick was annoyed by the remark.  
  
"Oh, well, Dominique, since you're as horny as a tomas in heat, I guess you'd better head over to the stable and find yourself a tomas stud for a boyfriend since you can't find a humanoid one," Nick said.  
  
" Pretty crude talk from a priest, but since you are so crude maybe you can give me the low-down on the Randall City boys. Any of them hump-worthy?"  
  
"Give it up, Dominique, I'm sure you'll make some tomas very happy," Nick said. "But if you want a humanoid, there's a rumor going round that Grey #5 is a pretty good kisser."  
  
Dominique snorted, "You are so full of shit, Chapel."  
  
"Well, that's the human condition. Need some help with your desserts?" said Nick as he tried to sneak a dish from her tray. She smacked his hands away with her spoon. "You took my boyfriend, you're not taking my dessert."  
  
She took a big spoonful of vanilla pudding.  
  
"Well look at Dominique, sucking down the cream again," I chuckled.  
  
She just about choked on it.  
  
"God, you're rude, Hornfreak," she declared, when she finally swallowed the mouthful.  
  
"Hey, you started it," I said and burst out laughing.  
  
Dominique joined in with me and Chapel just stared at us and shook his head.  
  
"Too bad you won't let me finish it," she said with a leer. "Damn, I'm a horny bitch tonight. Sorry, Midvalley. Sorry, Chapel," she said as she switched her spoon to a different dish and took a bite of stew. "God, I have been starved for so long and in so many ways."  
  
She ate with appetite, for a while. She finished the bowl, took a big drink of coffee and tucked into a piece of plum pie. After she finished the slice, she washed it down with a little more coffee.  
  
"That was good," she said.  
  
"Well, we'd love to stay and watch you eat, but I've got a gig starting in a half-hour, so Nick and I are going now. Will we see you later tonight, Dominique?" I asked.  
  
"Maybe," she said. "Hey, before you go, last night, who was that guy hanging around with the drummer, Larry or whatever his name was?"  
  
"Lenny."  
  
Yeah, that's right, Lenny. The guy who was hanging out with Lenny looked pretty cute."  
  
"Sorry, I didn't notice."  
  
"Yeah, right. You may be with Chapel, but I know you still notice, Midvalley. See you both later."  
  
"Dominique is on the prowl," I said to Nick as we left the cafeteria. "If she uses the Demon's Eye to seduce Dave, Lenny's gonna be an emotional wreck. I've seen him before under that kind of pressure and he'll be in no shape to play."  
  
By the time we got there at half past seven, the saloon was already jam- packed. In a way it was a pity that Miss Adelaide sacrificed the dance floor to make room for more paying customers. I always enjoy watching the dancers when we play because they really get into the music. One of the new songs I had written was a waltz. I had hoped that Dixie might sing it this evening. But it would have to wait until the graduation dance.  
  
Most of the crowd at the saloon was Academy students and teachers. Rai-dei must have showed up early, because he had a seat up-front. The "talented" students and the "no-talents" feud was still on and they were seated at different tables, glaring at each other and occasionally using hand gestures to show contempt.  
  
Bernie Welch, Ben Evans, and Jake Berkis, all wearing plaid flannel shirts and jeans, were drinking beer and sniggering red-faced. They weren't drunk, but they were feeling no pain. Zazie and E.G. Mine looked rather stiff and uncomfortable at a table for two. E.G. Mine was dressed in his dark navy sweats again instead of his weapon suit, a practical consideration since the bathroom stalls at the saloon were notoriously narrow.  
  
Legato showed up a few minutes later, walked over to the best table in the house, right in front of the small stage that served as a bandstand and persuaded the party of six that occupied it to leave. He then sat down in one of the newly vacant chairs.  
  
Nick was standing next to me near the stage, hanging loose while I played a few riffs to see how the new reed was breaking in. Silvia sounded sweet and looked beautiful shined up.  
  
"Silvia is in good voice this evening, Midvalley," said Legato. "And, Chapel, I must congratulate you. You really have proved yourself the best weapon skills teacher, bar none, that the academy has ever had."  
  
I saw Rai-dei at the next table react to this statement. I couldn't exactly name the expression on his face, but he wasn't pleased.  
  
"Won't you join me at my table this evening, Chapel?" asked Legato.  
  
"Sure, why not," replied Nick.  
  
"I hope you will sit with us during your breaks, Midvalley," said Legato but then his attention was drawn by the swinging of the batwing doors, "Ah, the lovely Dominique arrives."  
  
All the students noticed her arrival as well, their eyes fastened like glue to every curve of her.  
  
She scanned the room and made her way to the stage where Dave was performing a sound check.  
  
Dominique caught his eye and beckoned to him with her finger crooked. He looked a little non-plussed but came over to find out what she wanted. He raised no protest when she took him by the wrist and pulled him after her up the little hallway that led to the rest rooms.  
  
I sighed.  
  
"What's the matter, Midvalley," asked Legato.  
  
"Dominique is using the Demon's Eye on Dave," I said with a deeper sigh.  
  
I heard Lenny shout, "What the hell!?" and a few moments later, he came tearing up the passageway, crossed the crowded floor of the saloon at top speed, and slammed through the batwing doors.  
  
"Well, there goes the gig and the dance," I said in a resigned tone.  
  
Now it was Legato who sighed lightly.  
  
"Chapel, would you be so kind as to stop 'Lenny' from leaving?" he uttered the drummer's name with some distaste.  
  
Nick glanced at me and went after Lenny.  
  
"I have been looking forward to this music all week.," said Legato. " Are all musicians so temperamental, I wonder. Oh, never mind."  
  
Since Legato appeared to be talking to himself, I didn't respond.  
  
"I do hope she's not in the mood to be willful this evening. She has been doing such good work for Master Knives," he murmured, then stood up and walked up the hall. I followed him.  
  
We found Dominique with her arms locked tight around glassy-eyed Dave, her agile tongue working in his unprotesting mouth.  
  
"Dominique," said Legato softly. "I want you to be my guest tonight."  
  
It took a moment for Legato's words to register, but when they did, Dominique stepped away from Dave and pushed him against the wall.  
  
"Jealous?" she inquired of Legato with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Hardly," demurred Legato. " The drummer won't drum while you've got your tongue stuck down his boyfriend's throat. It makes it difficult for him to concentrate."  
  
"That's not my problem," said Dominique and she grabbed hold of Dave, fastened her lips on his and carried on where she'd left off.  
  
"Hmm. You are headstrong tonight. If you want to kiss, Dominique, I'll give you all the action you can handle.  
  
"It's about time," said Dominique with an arch smile as she shoved Dave aside again and moved towards Legato with her lips puckered. Legato stepped aside, as if to let a customer pass through to the rest rooms and Dominique, to her deep chagrin, found herself in a passionate lip-lock with E. G. Mine.  
  
Dominique struggled to get out of the kiss, but Legato's psionic talents dwarfed Dominique's and she found herself powerless to escape.  
  
"You wanted action, Dominique, now you've got it. Did you know that Mr. Mine has a picture of you next to his bed. Please feel free to join me at my table when your passion is spent, though I think you may be a while. Why, he's positively inspired this evening," said Legato with a tone of faint admiration.  
  
Dave was still leaning stunned against the wall.  
  
"Take him, Midvalley. Explain it all to 'Lenny' and please start the music on time. I'm expecting Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen this evening."  
  
I found Lenny sunk in depression, sitting on a bench on the boardwalk in front of the saloon. Nick sat beside him smoking.  
  
Dave was beginning to pull out of the stupor caused by the demon's eye. He reached out to comfort his lover who looked so sad saying, "God, what's the matter, Lenny?"  
  
"How can you ask me that?" asked the drummer with tears in his eyes and an ache in his voice, but still he stood and stepped into the warmth of Dave's embrace. "How could you do it? How could you do it?" sobbed Lenny.  
  
"Do what? I don't know what happened," protested Dave.  
  
"Í saw you in the hall kissing that woman with the eye patch," said Lenny.  
  
" Someone was kissing me?" Dave rubbed his lips with his fingers. "I don't remember," he said.  
  
"Lenny, Dave didn't do it on purpose. That woman, Dominique, used her psionic powers," I said. "I knew she wanted to make a move on Dave but there was nothing I could do to stop her."  
  
"Please believe me, Lenny. I would never cheat on you," said Dave.  
  
"So how is it that she stopped?" asked Lenny, growing calmer as Dave comforted him.  
  
"Legato stopped her. He wants to hear us play tonight and he wants it to start soon, so if you could pull yourself together, he would appreciate it," I said. "He doesn't like you at all, Lenny, but thank your stars he likes the way you play the drums. It's the only thing keeping you from ending up like Skip Walker."  
  
I could hear the audience in the saloon, growing rowdy at the delay of the music.  
  
"Skip Walker," Lenny gulped. "Shit! We'd better get going."  
  
He hurriedly wiped away his tears, and faster than he left the building, he went back in, with Dave and me in his wake. On my way back to the bandstand, I noticed that all the students from the academy were lined up in the hall. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought they needed to use the rest room, but the word was , that E.G. Mine was making out with Dominique the Cyclops and human nature being what it is, they had to see for themselves.  
  
The rest of the band had tuned up, and Miss Adelaide stood up at the bandstand as Lenny and I took our places.  
  
"Hey, everybody," she called out in her loudest voice, "Shut up and listen!" She got their attention.  
  
"The White Cat Saloon is proud to play host to the best band on the planet, so give these players a White Cat welcome. It's the sensational Midvalley Six!"  
  
The saloon rang to the rafters with raucous cheers, whistles and applause.  
  
"Oh, fuck," groaned Lenny, "We may all be dead by tomorrow so we may as well play the shit out of the music tonight."  
  
"That's why we're here," yelled Sonny.  
  
"Let's make some music," crowed Dixie.  
  
"Let's do it," chimed in Toby.  
  
"Ready when you are, Hornfreak," grunted Randy.  
  
"Can you handle 'Daredevil', Leather Lips?" Lenny asked me.  
  
"Fuck, yeah!" I said as I took a look at Nick at the table. He was grinning in anticipation and nodded at me. I raised Silvia's mouthpiece to my lips, closed my eyes and turned on the juice.  
  
Before the applause died down, Silvia launched us into musical orbit. I think that that was the best I ever played that song and I had plenty of company. It was sweet having two guitars. The Midvalley Five had become the Midvalley Six. Sonny and Randy really stepped up with a guitar duel that had the audience clapping along in time. Dixie added some great keyboards. Toby had a blast with his rocking bass runs, and Lenny kept the whole thing together. His rhythms were so complex, we were loose and tight at the same time. The song was a musical orgasm that the audience got off on and they just about took the roof off the White Cat with the noise they made for us when we finished the tune.  
  
Quite a few of the patrons were on their feet including Rai-dei and Nick. I felt a flow of warmth through our emotional link when Nick caught my eye. I also felt a moment of disorientation when I felt another flow of warmth and saw Legato eyeing me with a faint smile on his lips.  
  
I looked over at Lenny and he had the smuggest expression on his face as we bowed. Nobody knew how to play an audience like Lenny and he had this one just where he wanted it. He had the song list pretty well worked out, I could tell, and knowing Lenny, we were really going to earn our pay tonight. I was ready and eager to blow off some steam.  
  
Lenny picked some heavy duty rocking tunes that pushed us to the limit, especially after starting with "Daredevil" but no one in the band chickened out when he had us play, "Say 'Uncle'", "Over the Top", and "Peak Experience" in quick succession.  
  
We had just finished the last number of the the set to rousing cheers when Chapel the Evergreen and Leonof made their way across the floor to sit at the table with Nick and Legato. A few moments later E.G. Mine swaggered out of the hallway with the look of a conquering hero. Dominique followed a minute later, walked over to Legato's table and sat down demurely as a school girl, a school girl with two livid hickeys on her neck.  
  
When the applause died down, I set Silvia down and stepped from the stage. I shook hands with Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen before sitting down next to Nick. Legato had bought a couple of bottles of Miss Adelaide's best bourbon, and played host, pouring shots for all of us.  
  
He proposed a toast, "Here's to fine music and a banner year for the Academy."  
  
We clinked glasses and I emptied the shot glass with one swallow. My eyes scanned the saloon as I looked for familiar faces. I noticed the Randall City boys had crowded around E.G. Mine and Zazie's table and wasn't completely surprised when E.G. Mine collected envious high-fives from his classmates. Anyway you sliced it, Dominique was a very attractive woman and to have kissed her at length was a coup.  
  
My eyes went to Chapel the Evergreen. I was curious to see what his reaction to me and Nick would be, now that our affair was public knowledge, but his odd eye implants revealed nothing of his emotional state. I noticed no difference in his attitude towards me, but I could tell Nick was nervous. He was chain smoking again. I knew fairly little about the relationship between the father and son other than what I had observed over the years. Chapel the Evergreen was an emotionally reserved man which must have been a real trial for Nick. Nick's emotions were fairly volatile and I had learned that he thrived in an atmosphere of constant affection.  
  
The odd thing I sensed about Chapel the Evergreen was that he actually loved Nick. He just couldn't show it very well. He couldn't give him a simple compliment without tempering it with criticism.  
  
"Well, Nicholas," he said, "I am pleased that the scores at the weapon range are quite adequate this year. It surprised me that you did as well as you did, considering that so many of the students considered you unfit as an instructor. But you bring it on yourself. You just don't seem to be able to find the right balance. I always told you that your field reports were too skimpy, but I suppose for your first time instructing, it was a pretty fair effort."  
  
"Pretty fair?" said Legato in a languid tone. He addressed the Evergreen, "I am sure we both saw the same printout, but I begin to wonder if you saw the same results that I did? Chapel put in a lot of time and energy in teaching and the weapon range scores reflect it. This has been a record- setting class and the bonus he gets is also going to set a record. I must admit we have never had an instructor who read the fine print in the contract so carefully. Chapel is actually the first instructor ever who managed to max out on bonus."  
  
"However mercenary your motives, Chapel," Legato said to Nick, "Outstanding effort. If you weren't such a first class field agent, we would be tempted to keep you as a permanent instructor."  
  
Rai-dei overheard this speech, and came over to the table. He looked a bit perturbed and I wondered what was on his mind but all he said was, "Your playing has been excellent, Midvalley the Hornfreak. I hope you will make "Cocksure" one of the numbers in the next set, please. It is one of my favorites."  
  
"I will let Lenny know."  
  
"Oh, Rai-dei, so pleased you could make it this evening," Legato drawled. "I'd invite you to sit with us, but there's no room for an extra chair."  
  
I knew better than to question Legato on the remark. It might have been a little tight, but we could have fit another chair in. Legato never said anything without a reason.  
  
"Zazie the Beast looks in need of some mentoring this evening, Rai-dei," noted Legato. "With so much still to be decided tomorrow, he really needs to pull himself together."  
  
"As you command, Master Legato," he said with a bow. With a sidelong look at Nick, Rai-dei walked slowly back to his table.  
  
Lenny walked up to take his seat at the drumset, the signal to the rest of the band that the break was over and the rest of us took no time joining him. We could hardly wait to see what musical surprises the second set would hold. In fact, the second set was better than the first. "Cocksure" was the third tune we played. I looked over at Rai-dei's table to check out his response to his favorite and saw he was nodding his head in time with the music. He clapped vigorously. However upset he might be from Legato's slight, Rai-dei was a fan of our music.  
  
The shot I knocked back on break loosened me up. The whole band had all had more liquor than usual and as the set progressed, we were so loose on one number that went long, that I must confess I actually forgot what tune we were playing. In my defense, I know I wasn't the only one and after a while, it didn't seem to matter so we just improvised the hell out of whatever it was. I found myself rolling my eyes at Dixie and Lenny, Randy, Sonny and Toby grinned at each other and us. Finally we just got into the improvisation and were all as smug as cats in cream by the time we finished together in tune and on the beat. The crowd gave us a generous ovation.  
  
Somehow, it just tickled the hell out of Dixie that we had improvised so slickly and she got a case of the giggles, which spread like contagion through the band. I was laughing so hard, I couldn't put my lips on the mouthpiece to play the next tune, "Half a Double Dollar". Lenny was holding his stomach, doubled over like he was going to die, drumsticks clutched in his hands, tears running down his cheeks. Sonny, Randy, and Toby, legs wobbling and shoulders shaking finally had to put their instruments down, afraid they were going to do some damage to them.  
  
The patrons of the saloon were a little bewildered to see the band cracking up, but quite a few were cackling along with us. Finally Lenny managed to pull himself together and announce with barely contained titters, "The band is going to take a little break now."  
  
"Shake the sillies out and back in five?" Lenny suggested to me and the rest of the band just before he lost it again.  
  
I got back to the table and Nick chuckled, "Have another shot, Midvalley. I never heard what song that was, but it sounded great. Is that one of your new ones?"  
  
"It is now," I said with a laugh.  
  
Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen seemed a little uncomfortable. As heavily as the two relied on planning and organization in the day-to-day operations of the Academy , the very notion of improvisation made them nervous. Legato, however wore a dreamy look.  
  
"The improvisation surprised me It seemed so out of control, yet it was not. I am amazed that six people could have such different ideas about how to play a tune and that it still turned out well."  
  
"Well, I am sure it was very good, Master Legato," said Leonof, the first words I had heard from him this evening, "but as you know, there are still preparations to be made for the demonstrations and contests tomorrow."  
  
"Yes," said the Evergreen with the serious face he usually wore, "many preparations."  
  
"Well then, I'd best let you go," said Legato. "Master Knives appreciates your dedication. I'm sure I don't know how the Academy would run without your talents.  
  
Leonof and the Evergreen said their good-byes and left the saloon. As they left, I saw Caine and Ned Pitts come in. Miss Adelaide had reserved the booth in back for them.  
  
Dominique had been fairly subdued in the presence of the Academy's two elder statesmen, but perked up after they left.  
  
"Thank God those two old fogies are gone. Oh, sorry, Chapel. I forget he's your father, but if it hadn't been for the music, I'd have died of boredom."  
  
Legato chuckled, "You won't hear me agree with that, but you won't hear me disagree either. They mean well."  
  
My neck was a little tense and I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my neck on my shoulders to loosen up the tight muscles and tossed back another shot of bourbon. I wondered why I was so tense and I realized that I was picking up on Nick's feelings through our link. But whether the source of the tension had been his father or Legato, I couldn't be sure. As I turned my head and shoulders, I noticed that the rivalry between Bernie Welch and Zazie had gotten loud and ugly. I could hear them from where I sat and so could Legato.  
  
"How does it feel coming in second-best again, Beast Boy?" Welch was taunting Zazie. "And to another "no-talent" at that."  
  
"You'll find out tomorrow who's second-best," declared Zazie. "Do you think they already awarded the sharpshooter ribbon? Think again. You sound so sure of yourself but I don't see you with the Quick Draw plaque in your hands. I can hardly wait for tomorrow. You'll win over my dead body."  
  
"Over mine, teeny wienie," mocked Welch.  
  
"I should fucking kill you for that," said Zazie.  
  
Legato turned in his chair with a raised eyebrow.  
  
At this point, Rai-dei mercifully interfered. He mumbled something to Zazie who followed Rai-dei to his table and sat down next to him. Whatever he said to Zazie seemed to calm him down. Zazie shot several murderous looks at Bernie Welch who smirked smugly and cheerfully flipped him the bird every time he noticed one.  
  
"Were we ever so competitive as students?" said Legato. It was an interesting question. The four of us sitting at the table had all been students at the same time.  
  
"There wasn't a hell of a lot of competition for the top spots, Legato," scoffed Dominique. Not with you at the academy. Anything in the brains department, you won hands down. The way I recall it, you could have taught the classes. You were always correcting Leonof and The Evergreen on the way they conducted their classes and telling them how they could improve their mission success and those old guys took notes when you talked. Then from the time he was ten until the time he graduated, little Chapel Jr. here won the top awards in the sharp-shooting and quick draw. I did get a little satisfaction out of beating Midvalley here in marksmanship with pistols. I would have gotten more satisfaction if he'd tried a little harder, but he didn't exactly live out on the weapon range like Chapel did."  
  
I just smiled as I felt the shot of bourbon kick in and sighed deeply as my shoulders relaxed.  
  
"Ah, the weapon range," mused Legato. "I'll never forget the sights, smells, and sounds of the weapon range. Even now, the merest whiff of gunpowder, and it takes me back to those exciting days when I learned to handle my pistol for the very first time."  
  
Legato looked at me with his golden eye and I felt a thrill run through me as I re-experienced the moment whole when I sucked him off in the storage shack on the weapon range. I remembered the sunlight painted on the floor boards and the stacked targets, the golden dust motes dancing, and Legato sitting on the burlap sandbags with his pale skin exposed, my mouth on him, his gasps of pleasure, the taste of him. I started to sweat and damn near came. I felt as though I were floating suspended in the flecks of Legato's eye.  
  
"I was competitive," I heard Nick say.  
  
His voice broke the trance. I reached out and put my arm around his shoulder to ground myself.  
  
"I felt the need to prove myself because I was the youngest and the smallest," Nick continued. "I think Zazie feels some of that. But there were other reasons." his voice trailed off. He was looking at me with concern.  
  
Dominique was watching Legato watching me.  
  
"Are you all right, Midvalley?" Nick asked me.  
  
"That shot hit me pretty hard. I'm not sure why," I said. "I'm feeling a little dizzy."  
  
I shook my head to clear it. At that point, Lenny called us up to start the last set.  
  
Once I strapped on Silvia and started playing, I felt better immediately. Legato was messing with my mind again. I was sure of it. But as Lenny worked down the song list and gave me one hard driving number after another to play, I hadn't time to worry. I was too busy grooving on Silvia and what Dixie's piano was telling me, and the sound of Toby's bouncing bass and Sonny and Randy's twin guitars and Lenny's insane percussive creations. It was music at its best. I played myself out.  
  
When the music was done, and the applause died down, I said my good-byes to the rest of the band. Dave started taking down the sound equipment. Lenny and I made the final arrangements about when and where to meet for the dance. The crowd thinned out as students and teachers left the saloon.  
  
I had another drink with Nick, Legato and Dominique. Rai-dei left after paying his respects to Master Legato and me He didn't have a word for Nick or Dominique, which I thought was a little peculiar. A few minutes later Caine and Pitts, holding hands, sauntered out of the saloon. There was something romantic in the protective concern for Caine's welfare that Pitts demonstrated. Finally Nick and I took our leave of Legato and Dominique and walked out into the moonlit night together.  
  
I walked arm in arm with him through the rough neighborhood. We'd only walked a couple of blocks when a couple of men emerged from the shadows of an alley.  
  
"Looks like we got us a couple of bent boys here to straighten out," said a rough voice.  
  
"Fuckin' faggots," grunted another thick voice. "I'm gonna."  
  
"You're gonna go night-night," said Nick as he cold-cocked one with the butt of his automatic. As the attacker collapsed, a second later Nick delivered a hard kick in the groin to the other thug who sank to his knees with a high-pitched squeak, then keeled over and was silent.  
  
"Nicely done, partner," I commented and we proceeded on our walk.  
  
"I like the feel of this fabric," said Nick as he slid his hand around my velvet clad back and rested it on my shoulder.  
  
I loved the feeling of his arm around me, but the way that Legato could control my thoughts was preying on my mind.  
  
"Is anything the matter, Midvalley? You're awfully quiet."  
  
"It happened to me again tonight."  
  
"Legato?"  
  
"He influences my thoughts and memories and I can't stop him. It's all been sexual and it's like he wants me to keep it a dirty secret, but the feeling I'm cheating on you by hiding it makes me sick. I want things between us to be out in the open."  
  
"I appreciate your honesty, Midvalley, and what you're telling me just makes me love you more. I told you I'd never doubt you again and I meant it."  
  
The moment of trust moved us both deeply and we shared a long satisfying kiss on the strength of it.  
  
When we got back to the apartments, I invited Nick in.  
  
"It's really late and tomorrow's a big day," he said. " We ought to get some sleep."  
  
"Uh-uh," I shook my head.  
  
"Uh-uh?" he said with a shy smile.  
  
"Uh-uh," I said firmly. I put my lips on his and felt his smile broaden. He unbuttoned my velvet jacket and silk shirt and slid his hands over my naked skin beneath them.  
  
"I love the feel of this fabric," he whispered and my body shivered from his touch.  
  
"If we're not going to sleep, what will we be doing instead, Midvalley," he asked softly as he continued to stroke my skin.  
  
"Storing up memories, Nick," I said as I opened his shirt and slid my arms around his satin skin. "Storing up memories." 


	20. Graduation Day

Graduation Day  
  
We got a few hours of sleep that night. Nick was up and out the door a little after the first sunrise. For him that was sleeping in. He gave me a kiss before he left. I slept in until the second sunrise, cleaned up and dressed in the coolest suit I owned, a pale yellow with light gray pinstripes that I wore with a pink shirt so pastel it was practically white. I put on my two-tone wingtip shoes and checked my outfit in the mirror. No doubt about it. I looked good.  
  
I took Silvia out of her case and polished her until she shone. I put my lips on the mouthpiece and tested the reed. I played a bit of the song I hadn't finished, the one I'd come to think of as Nick's tune. Before I knew it, a half-hour had passed. I set Silvia down and headed out the door. I strolled over to the dining hall. It was practically empty. Due to his demanding preparations for the picnic, the cook had put minimal effort into breakfast. Most of the students and staff ate a sparing breakfast on the last day of the school year, saving up room for the culinary main event, a whole tomas slow-roasted on the spit with all the trimmings.  
  
There were donuts and muffins on the sideboard. I selected a plain donut, poured a cup of coffee, doctored it with cream , and then headed out the door taking the cup with me. I was curious to see how close to the scheduled start, events would actually begin.  
  
Leonof, as usual, was putting a lot of effort into making sure the picnic was a success. He had put several of his puppets to work already. The cook was supervising their efforts in the shade of a tented area set aside for food preparation and service. One was stoking the fire in the fire pit, a couple were peeling potatoes and still others, chopping up onions and peppers.  
  
Leonof was sitting in the shade, programming instructions into more of his puppets when I greeted my former mentor and partner.  
  
"Hey, Leonof, I see you're hard at it, as usual. Is this thing going to get off the ground on time?"  
  
"Of course. Speaking of time, you're just in time," he said.  
  
"In time for what?" I asked just a bit perplexed.  
  
Leonof paused as he checked the wiring in another puppet. He always enjoyed injecting a bit of theater into our interactions.  
  
"I can't wait to hear," I prompted him, and then waited a bit while he got around to telling me in his own good time. Knowing Leonof, it was sure to be interesting.  
  
"It's that Mine fellow, the one who was bad-mouthing you and Chapel and that Jigenzan fellow, Rai-dei. He was full of himself this morning, fresh from the conquest of Dominique last night. I asked him to help me untangle some of the control wires on the puppets and he said to me, 'You know what, old man,' he had the nerve to call me old, Midvalley, 'Old man, I don't take orders from you any more. From now on, I pull my own strings."  
  
"I can't believe he was stupid enough to say that," I said, and truly I couldn't believe he had been stupid enough to say that. Leonof was legendary at the academy for the novel paybacks he invented for students who pissed him off. Leonof didn't take shit from anyone.  
  
"So, what are you doing?"  
  
"You'll see."  
  
I heard EG Mine shouting, "What in the hell are you doing?" before I saw what he was shouting about. He was attempting to hurry away from a pursuer. Running in his heavy weapon suit was almost impossible due to the weight of the spikes. The best he could manage was a fast walk and Grey Nine-Lives was already almost on top of him.  
  
"Leonof, those spikes of his could be dangerous," I warned my former mentor.  
  
"Rest easy, Midvalley, one of my puppets already disabled the triggering mechanism."  
  
I watched with some satisfaction when Grey bent down and picked up Mine by the ankles and held him upside down. Mine was pulling fruitlessly on his trigger release cords and swearing a blue streak.  
  
"Fuck, shit, goddamn cock-sucking cords," he spewed. "Where the fuck are you taking me, Grey? Oh, God, no, Grey!"  
  
Grey started to swing Mine around in a big circle, around and around, to build up a head of steam. Grey then moved over to a food prep table where a very large boneless raw tomas roast was sitting. Grey smacked the raw meat with E.G. Mine in his spiked weapon suit, battering the meat again and again. Each time Mine's face was only inches from the raw carcass, his open mouth screaming in terror.  
  
I had to laugh when I finally realized that Grey was using Mine as a meat tenderizer. "Just when I thought I'd seen it all, you outdo yourself. Another one for the record books," I put out my hand and shook his.  
  
"You were always my best partner, Midvalley. None of these new whippersnappers is worth a damn. Mark my words, one of these days you'll be Legato's right hand man."  
  
"That's very flattering," I commented, "but you and Chapel the Evergreen serve him so well, he is allowing me to go on tour with my band."  
  
" Legato bears a heavy burden," he continued. "His dedication to the work of Master Knives leaves him with few social outlets. You were the only student near his age whose talents came remotely close to matching his, the only one with whom he developed a rapport. Though Chapel the Evergreen and I aid him to the best of our abilities, we cannot give him the understanding that someone of his generation would. It is obvious to me and to Chapel the Evergreen, that he is sorely in need of a peer and confidant and we hope that some day, you will be that man."  
  
"As I say, this is all very flattering, but I haven't spent much time with Legato since we were students. And now that he is my supervisor, it is difficult to see him in any other light. I realize that Master Knives is a demanding taskmaster, and confess that I am relieved that Legato bears the burden of pleasing him. Legato seems to be handling his duties with great confidence. When I met Legato a couple of weeks ago, I asked after Master Knives. He told me that his health was improving. Since you get nearly daily updates from headquarters, I am curious to know how much better he is now, if I'm not out of line."  
  
"Master Knives is not well. His health has taken a turn for the worse since Legato left. I am told that he can no longer leave the regeneration tank. In addition to his other psychic abilities, Legato is an empath with some healing ability. Master Knives' healing accelerated when he was able to tap into Legato's talent. It takes a toll on Legato. He has looked pale and ill after, but willingly gives of his strength to aid our master."  
  
Legato will be leaving to rejoin Knives either this evening or tomorrow morning. I understand that Knives has been in an angry mood. I would not want to be in Legato's shoes.or in Mr. Mine's. It appears that Grey is finished, the roast is tenderized, and E.G. Mine will likely never insult me again."  
  
After Grey thwacked the roast with the E.G. Mine spikes one last time, he rapidly swung the terrified student around in circles for almost a minute and then set him down on his feet. Mine lurched and staggered dizzily like a drunk until shortly he stumbled over his own feet and fell. Then he threw up in the face mask his wore. Leonof sighed happily.  
  
I dunked my donut into the now tepid coffee, took a bite and headed off to the assembly field considering Leonof's words about Legato while I faced facts about what was on Legato's mind with regards to me.  
  
It seemed to be about sex. I had been in denial but it was obvious that he wanted to have sex with me. Had had sex with me several times, if only vicariously through the mental link that time had not erased. Despite my gratitude to him for past kindness, Legato was not quite a friend anymore if he had ever been that. But he was more to me than an acquaintance, surely, for we had been intimate. At the beginning of our short affair, years before when we were students, I had at one point felt the beginning of loving feelings for him, which I thought he had returned. It had seemed to me at the time that when Legato became Master Knives' man, he forgot entirely about me. It hurt me when he left without even saying good-bye. It made me feel that I had misunderstood his intentions. Then I rebounded, fell into bed with Lenny, and from Lenny on, had for the most part avoided the entanglements of love. All I wanted for the longest time from a sex partner was to just fuck with no strings attached and no chance for heartache-until Nick came along.  
  
If I was honest with myself and for some reason this morning I was, Legato was the reason why I gave up on love. If I was honest with myself, I had been in love with him. If I was honest with myself, the truth was I felt Legato abandoned me and broke my heart. After he left me, I decided that I would never let myself be that vulnerable again-until Chapel came along with his innocence and naivete and set the life I'd been leading on its ear, when he taught me how to love again. And now with Nick leaving soon, I felt some of the same fears and vulnerabilities returning.  
  
But why was Legato so interested in attempting to resume a sexual relationship with me? I deeply resented his interference in my relationship with Nick, but now that I realized the mindset that precipitated it, I began to understand some of the feelings that lay behind his behavior. I sensed that what Legato felt was more than just an itch that he wanted to scratch though I doubted it was love he wanted from me. Maybe it was what Leonof had suggested that he wanted an intimate confidant.  
  
To be completely honest with myself, I was flattered that someone as brilliant and attractive as Legato still wanted me, despite the hopelessness of that desire. With the empathic link between us there was no way Legato could have missed the depth of my feelings for Nick or the satisfaction that my fidelity to him gave me. I sighed just to think again of how my love for Nick made me feel whole.  
  
I reflected on the sexual images Legato had sent me over the past weeks. He had reminded me of the purity of his excitation and the emotional closeness he felt with me when we made love as students and he had let me see how Knives used him and I had felt his pain.  
  
I sensed that Legato's overtures to me were an attempt to achieve a degree of intimacy and understanding that Knives denied him. "I am so lonely," Legato had said. Though Legato almost always presented a calm unruffled demeanor, yet in my empathic link with him I could feel loneliness and unhappiness. I had this sense of his hanging back like an unloved child.  
  
In an intuitive flash, it dawned on me. He wanted me to use my healing ability to ease his pain. Just as he had after his arm was amputated and the pain he sent through our link killed Mark. The truth was I was afraid to open myself to Legato. I had always told myself I was afraid of his power, but I was more afraid that if I opened myself fully to the empathic link we shared, I would find the reason that he had rejected me. But secure in Nick's love, I no longer cared why Legato had abandoned me. It felt satisfying to finally come to terms with the truth that had unconsciously driven my behavior for so many years. Out of curiosity, I opened the link with Legato and reached out.  
  
At this very moment, Legato was suffering, his heart twisted by a pain so deep, I could barely stand to touch it . I had rarely recalled, that he was an empath like myself until Leonof had reminded me. Now, I understood what he had done on my behalf after my rape, the magnitude of the suffering he had taken into himself for me. With no thought of being unfaithful to Nicholas, but with every thought of paying Legato back for his past kindness to me, I reached out with the healing touch of my mind to Legato and lent him my strength. He took everything I gave him, but it barely made a dent in healing the pain. I was about to pull away, but against my will, he drew more from me. I struggled to resist, but as he continued to drain me, my knees grew weak, my vision went dark, my hands started to tremble, and the coffee cup slipped from my nerveless fingers. Finally with the sound of roaring in my ears, I reeled, collapsed and fainted.  
  
The next thing I recalled was the grip of a hand round my wrist, and voices whispering in my head.  
  
"I warned you this might kill him."  
  
"Another dead spider. Oh, the gods will weep and mourn."  
  
"It's not easy finding one's with healing ability."  
  
"You'd say anything to save your whore."  
  
"He's no good to you dead"  
  
"Save your spider-whore, then."  
  
"As you wish, master."  
  
"I defiled that arm when I gave it to you."  
  
Then for a time the only sound I heard was calm, deep, measured breathing and the rhythm of it put me to sleep and I dreamed.  
  
I heard my mother's voice singing, "Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree-top,"  
  
I saw her looking down at me with love in her eyes,  
  
"When the wind blows the cradle will rock,"  
  
I looked up at her again, and saw Legato bending over me in the pink dress, watching me with tenderness,  
  
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall," he whispered with tears falling from his golden eye as he began to take me in his arms,  
  
"And down will come baby, cradle and all."  
  
I slipped out of his grasp and started to fall from a great height. I saw the ruined hulks of ships cratered in the sand of the planet below, looked up and saw the eyes of the five moons on me. I felt strong winds buffeting me, looked below and felt a shiver of fear as the ground rushed up to meet me. I'm going to die, I realized with a sob in my throat. When I hit the ground my body bucked and I cried out-  
  
and woke with a start my hands clutched in the sand of the street, my heart beating like a rabbit's.  
  
"Midvalley."  
  
I felt arms around me.  
  
I looked up startled and saw Nick looking down at me. His face was pale under his tan.  
  
"What happened? Are you all right?" he asked with worried eyes.  
  
I struggled to make my mouth form words.  
  
"I fell," I said.  
  
I was none too clear on what had actually just happened. I had a splitting headache.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick," I said.  
  
I rolled out of Nick's arms onto all fours, my body wracked by waves of nausea. After the coffee and donut came up, there wasn't much left to follow, but the contractions of dry heaves continued. When they finally stopped, I sat back on my haunches.  
  
"Have I been out long?" I asked.  
  
"Only a few minutes," said Leonof. I turned my head to look at him. He was standing next to Legato.  
  
"Legato," I murmured in surprise. A memory tickled at the back of my sluggish mind.  
  
"Did you need a hand up, Midvalley?" Legato asked and he knelt down beside me and encircled my wrist with his fingers.  
  
Nick knelt on the other side and gripped my hand and elbow and they helped me to my feet. I think I came up too fast. I must have lost consciousness again and started to fall, for when I came to, I found myself propped between Nick and Legato. Their arms around me had kept me from falling. I felt my strength returning. When the support of Legato's hand finally left me, I found I was able to stand on my own. I sighed in relief.  
  
"Feeling better?" asked Legato.  
  
"Much," I sighed again. Even the headache was gone.  
  
"I hope you're well enough to play your sax at the dance."  
  
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, " I said.  
  
"I've got to go, said Legato, "It's time to start. Stay with him awhile, Chapel. Let me know if he starts to feel worse."  
  
Legato looked at me as if he regretted leaving me. Now that I looked at him more closely, I could see he looked a little drawn and fatigued himself. He walked slowly towards the assembly field, while Leonof trailed behind him.  
  
"The sharpshooting tournament is about to begin, Midvalley. There are seats in the shade. Can we go see it?" Nick said with some eagerness in his voice.  
  
"I wouldn't want to miss your moment of glory," I said with a smile.  
  
Nick strode off briskly and I tried to keep pace with him, but I still felt weak and had to walk slowly. When Nick saw I was lagging, he was back at my side in an instant with a contrite look on his face.  
  
"I didn't know you were still feeling ill, Middie," he said apologetically.  
  
"Just a little weak is all."  
  
"Can I get you something to eat or drink?"  
  
"I'd probably just throw it up."  
  
"You're not having a relapse from the concussion, are you?"  
  
"I don't think so, Nick."  
  
"You have to promise me that you'll take care of yourself while I'm gone."  
  
"Don't worry about me," I said. "While you're out killing bad guys for Knives, I'll be holed up in my studio making beautiful music with Silvia or out on tour with the band. You'll be in a lot more danger than I will."  
  
"When I found you lying on the ground back there, you were so still I thought for a minute that maybe you were."  
  
"Did I make a handsome corpse, Nick?" I chuckled. "I think this suit might be a good one to be buried in."  
  
"It's not funny, Middie."  
  
"When I die, what's that bit of scripture? He who lives by the something?"  
  
"He who lives by the sword shall perish by the sword."  
  
"Yeah, that's it, but for me it would be, 'He who lives by the horn shall perish by the horn.' I can't think of a better way to go. Dying with my lips on Silvia's mouthpiece, taking one last breath, and then blowing myself out like a candle."  
  
"Why so morbid, Midvalley? This isn't like you."  
  
"The stink of death is all around us," I said grimly.  
  
"Where the hell did that come from?" Nick asked in consternation.  
  
I burst into laughter and said, "I haven't got a fucking clue. Let's see this tournament."  
  
This year, as in some previous years, but by no means all, there was a team tournament in addition to an individual tournament.  
  
Nick found us seats in the shade. I saw Dominique sitting in a different section and waved at her. She acknowledged the greeting with a nod of her head. She looked a little hung over, and the collar of her shirt was buttoned to the top, I noted.  
  
As we settled in, Nick filled me in on the action. "Right now, Ben Evans is competing against E.G. Mine in rifles."  
  
I could see Nick was tense watching their technique.  
  
"Relax, exhale, aim and squ-e-e-eze," I heard him say under his breath. His body moved in response to the bullets' trajectories. It was as if he thought he could will them to their targets with body English, though it was his teaching ability that was getting the job done.  
  
Ben Evans was cool and collected as he aimed and shot at the targets, his stout arm holding the heavy rifle steady as he shot form the prone supported position.  
  
E.G. Mine was more highly strung. Rai-dei coached him from the bleachers, "Calm yourself, Mine. Find the flow. Breathe out, steady, aim and sque-e- e-ze," he said.  
  
Nick was relieved when Mine found his rhythm again, but I noticed that Mine's eyes drifted to the scoreboard and when he saw himself falling behind, his concentration faltered again and he missed another target.  
  
"Concentrate, crap-ass," growled Zazie from his seat at the top of the bleachers "You're letting the team down. Pretend you're screwing Dominique. Shoot your wad in her hole," he finished with a yell.  
  
I looked over to see Dominique's reaction and then back at Zazie.  
  
One second Zazie was perched on his high seat laughing as if he'd made the wittiest joke of all time, the next, he was lying on the ground gasping with the wind knocked out of him and Dominique looking down at him with a highly amused smile on her face.  
  
"Need a hand up, teeny wienie?" she asked him.  
  
Zazie's face was purple with rage as he tried to articulate the words. His lips tried to make an "eff" sound, but with no breath to back it up, nothing came out.  
  
"I guess not," said Dominique blithely and she teleported to a seat near Legato.  
  
Although, Dominique got satisfaction from her revenge on Zazie, as for E.G. Mine, Zazie's training tip had paid off. Mine didn't miss a single target. By the time the match ended, Team Talent, was only down by two points. Bernie, Jake and Ned were whistling and cheering for Ben Evans, who bowed, his new glasses reflecting the suns' light.  
  
The next match-up featured Jake Berkis against Grey Nine-Lives. The weapon of choice was shot-guns. In this exercise, the shooter had to acquire and shoot six targets and hit the bull's eye. Easy enough, maybe, but not when there's a mechanical device rapid-firing paintballs at the shooter. The shooter had to dodge the paintballs, reload twice and try to hit all six targets. The winner would be the last man standing without being hit. If they both took no hits, the winner was whoever finished first. If both got hit, the winner was whoever hit the most targets first without being paint- balled.  
  
Grey Nine-Lives was machine-fast on the reloading but he lacked dodging ability. When the contest started, Grey put down five targets before Berkis started his third but a paintball splattered Grey before he hit the sixth. Berkis conducted a clinic on the art of the shot-gun as he rolled, dodged, reloaded and pumped his rounds, took out the targets and finally sprang to his feet in triumph. Grey earned 10 points for "Team Talent." Berkis scored 12 points for the no-talent team. Now they were up by 4.  
  
The next contest was a machine gun battle between Ben Evans and Grey. I remembered Chapel's story about Grey's speed on the weapon range and began to despair for the chances of the no-talent team.  
  
"Don't give up on Evans just yet, Midvalley," Nick advised me. "It's not just about speed. Control and accuracy is another part of the contest.  
  
As predicted, Grey destroyed the six targets in record time and scored 6 points. Ben Evans had a creditable round and scored four. The next part of the contest measured the shooters ability to put a three round burst in the target.  
  
Grey never grasped the delicate concept of the three-round burst, so as usual he sprayed about 100 bullets in each target and lost the chance of scoring any points. Much to Chapel's pleased surprise, Evans scored three hits and overall beat Grey 7 to 6. That match also went to the no-talents and they went up by 5 points.  
  
The next contest involved sniper rifles and no one from Team Talent really wanted to go up against Ned Pitts.  
  
I heard Rai-dei with some exasperation exhorting Zazie, who had finally caught his breath..  
  
"You must try, Zazie. If he shoots unopposed, we will likely lose all 12 points. Ben Evans wasn't afraid to compete against Mine or Grey. Don't be such a chickenshit. It's only from a mile out."  
  
Rai-dei held out a rifle to Zazie who grumbled as he took it. Leonof had a jeep waiting for Zazie and Pitts. The two contestants got in the vehicle and Leonof peeled out and drove to the one-mile sniper's point.  
  
An eight foot 2x4 was set up on a pair of saw horses at a safe distance from the bleachers. 12 empty glass bottles were set up on the wooden rail, a half-dozen for each contestant to shoot at.  
  
Moments later, the bottles on Ned Pitts' side lay in shards. It took Zazie a half-minute to break all the bottles on his side, but break them he did, and the score for that match went 12 to 9-advantage to the no-talents, who led by 8 points.  
  
In the next contest Zazie and Bernie competed with pistols and each scored a perfect 12 . Even with a sudden-death continuation of the pistol contest, there was no way that Team Talent could make up the point deficit. So Chapel the Evergreen announced, "The winner of the team competition is the Randall City Team."  
  
The Evergreen couldn't bring himself to say the Randall City No-Talents.  
  
They cheered for themselves, high-fived and slapped their backs.  
  
Bernie Welch held out the palm of his hand and stuck it in Zazie's face.  
  
"Pay up, Beast Boy. You lost," he said with a sneer.  
  
"It's not like I have it on me. I'll get you later."  
  
"Be sure you do."  
  
The rivalry between the two was getting uglier and I was sure it would probably come to a head in the quick draw contest, but for the moment, the students were taking advantage of the half-hour break before the tournament that would determine the best all-around weapons handler.  
  
The brightness of the sun had given me a migraine and the sensation of jagged flashing lights on the periphery of my field of vision was making me nauseous again. Sweat beaded on my forehead, the back of my neck got clammy and I got the burning sensation of prickly heat in my back. I closed my eyes and groaned as my head began to pound.  
  
"What's the matter, Midvalley," Nick asked me.  
  
"My headache came back."  
  
"Take my sunglasses, Middie. I'll get you some pills. Anything else you need?"  
  
I put on the dark glasses and it helped a little, but it hurt too much to think so I just sat there dumbly with my head throbbing.  
  
I felt his worry for me through our link. He stroked my shoulder, said, "I'm going to get something for you," and hurriedly started to leave-a man on a mission. Just then, one of Leonof's puppets, dressed in a butler's suit came over to Chapel and me. He carried a tray that held a plate of salmon sandwiches cut in quarters, two tall glasses of icy red-fruit juice and a bottle of pain killers.  
  
"With the compliments of Master Legato," said the puppet. "For the two of you. The Master is particularly concerned for your welfare, Midvalley."  
  
"Thank you," I said, and reached for the bottle of pills. I shook two into the palm of my hand and swallowed them with a sip of the juice. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was and eagerly drank almost half the glass.  
  
Nick took the tray from the puppet and sat down beside me and the puppet walked back to the food tent. Nick seemed disappointed in himself that he hadn't thought of the refreshments first.  
  
"I was just going to ask if you needed anything," he said.  
  
"Don't worry about it, lover. You always give me what I need," I said absently as I reached for a sandwich. I wasn't prepared for the flood of emotion that poured through the link from Nick in response.  
  
"You never called me that before," he said. "I love you so much," he whispered with his voice trembling.  
  
"Do you need your glasses back, Nick?" I asked with a touch of humor. I knew he was on the verge of tears.  
  
"No, you keep them. I brought a spare in my pocket today. You never remember to bring them along," he mumbled and he slipped the extra pair over his eyes.  
  
I ate slowly and sipped the drink. The pain relievers knocked out my migraine in less than a quarter hour. When the pain left, I heaved a deep sigh.  
  
"You okay?" Nick asked me.  
  
"The headache's gone. I'm starting to feel better. So tell me about the all-around contest? Who do you see might take the honors this year? Zazie?"  
  
"Zazie's not competing in the all-around. If the low recoil from a rocket launcher dumps him on his ass, you can imagine what a 50 cal or a shotgun would do. He's got a very small frame. I was about Zazie's size when I first came to the academy. My dad didn't start me on machine guns and shot guns until I was almost 10."  
  
"So he hasn't qualified with all weapons," I said. "If he doesn't win the quick draw, it will take a miracle for him to graduate."  
  
"Exceptions are made for physical limitations as long as mastery is demonstrated."  
  
"That's right," I considered, "Now that I think about it Hoppered the Gauntlet never qualified with any of them, but he graduated."  
  
"As well he might. He's a damned fine field agent and one of the best intelligence operatives around."  
  
"He has his physical challenges, but he's nobody's fool, that's for sure."  
  
I stood up, stretched and looked around. The students hadn't returned from their lunch break. Legato was deeply involved in a discussion with Rai- dei, Leonof, and Chapel the Evergreen. Rai-dei's face was flushed with anger. I wondered what made him mad.  
  
I looked back towards the Academy offices and saw a figure in the distance. As he got closer, I knew he looked familiar but couldn't quite place him. He was carrying a small case of some kind in his left hand. He started to wave at me, and called out, "Hey, Midvalley, I made it!"  
  
It was the bass player from Skip Walker's band. He came over and shook my hand.  
  
"Hey, Jason, good to see you."  
  
"Hi, Chapel," he said to Nick and they shook hands.  
  
I looked at the small case he was carrying and said, "What happened to your bass? Looks like it shrank!"  
  
"I get that a lot, Midvalley. I knew you were full up on bass with Toby, and you didn't really need another lead guitar. Sonny and Randy are awesome and I'm not bad either, but three's a crowd. So I brought along my fiddle."  
  
"I didn't know you played fiddle."  
  
Yeah, I play washtub bass, bass fiddle, electric bass, guitar, mandolin and fiddle."  
  
"What? No keyboards?"  
  
"Well, in a pinch, I can fill in on piano."  
  
"I was only joking. Damn, you're talented."  
  
"You haven't heard me yet, I might suck hard."  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"Nah."  
  
"Fiddle player, hmmm. This could get interesting. We ought to get in some jam time before the dance. Do you know the "Low-down Hoe-down"?  
  
"Randy and I used to play that a lot. It was written for guitar. Bet it sounds great on a sax."  
  
"It's different, but yeah, it sounds pretty good."  
  
" The band is set to meet here at 4 and the music starts at 6:30 after the picnic dinner. The rest of the band is staying at The Hotel Progress in town. Did you want to hang out with them there and freshen up?"  
  
"I'm kind of low on cash. I spent almost my last double dollars on cab fare here."  
  
I reached into my jacket, took out my wallet and pulled out a $$20 bill and handed it to him. "Consider it part of your payment in advance."  
  
"Hey, I didn't know I'd get paid. I just came to jam. Thanks, Midvalley. See you at four. Bye, Chapel, " he said and walked away.  
  
The students filed back from their break and the sharpshooter tournament started. I didn't pay that much attention to most of it. The idea of having a fiddler in the band was so intriguing that I spent quite a bit of time thinking of the songs I knew that could feature that instrument. I could hardly wait to rehearse with him. One of my new songs, "Under a Pale Moon" could really benefit from the singing tone of a fiddle.  
  
I paid some attention to the contest, but really only because Nick squeezed my arm every now and then with excitement to give me an update. I kept expecting him to tell me Bernie Welch had taken the sharpshooter all- around, but it ended up that Ned Pitts had the highest scores. I was completely surprised but Chapel wasn't.  
  
"Concentration is so important, Middie. Well done, Pitts," shouted Chapel.  
  
"Huh?" I said.  
  
Chapel looked at me with an indulgent smile.  
  
"You haven't really followed much of this since Jason showed up, have you, Midvalley."  
  
"Hardly anything."  
  
"Well, the only outcome I'm really curious about is the one between Zazie and Bernie Welch. Though I can hardly wait to see the exhibition that Caine and Pitts put on. You're not going to want to miss it, Midvalley. I saw them practicing. You're gonna be amazed."  
  
"When does it start?"  
  
"In about 10 minutes. They're setting up now."  
  
Out on the field, Caine and Pitts were hanging partially filled beer bottles from a taut wire tied between two poles. After they hung thirty or so, they got into Leonof's jeep and headed out towards the 3 mile sniper point affectionately known at the academy as the Sniper's Roost. In a few more minutes, there was a mirror flash from Caine and Pitts to let us know they were about to begin.  
  
And then they started a rapid fire drill. Caine and Pitts didn't break the bottles. No, that would have been too easy for them. The bullets they aimed glanced off the bottles. It took me until the tenth bottle to find out what they were up to. They played about two verses worth and didn't miss a note even with the bottles still swinging from the previous hit.  
  
"Hey, they're playing that song, 'Sound Life'" I chuckled to Nick. Soon the rest of the crowd in the seats caught on. We were all just in awe of Caine and Pitts. I clapped and clapped when they finished. They showed up a few minutes later and got another ovation when they stepped from the jeep. I think they were a little embarrassed by the attention but pleased also.  
  
I think it was the most impressive weapons exhibition I ever saw at the academy.  
  
The individual weapons contest held few surprises. Ned Pitts got the highest scores with rifle and sniper rifle. Jake Berkis won for Shot Gun . After a little chat with Grey, Rai-dei put Grey #5 in charge for the machine gun contest and Grey won. I know Nick was very pleased that Grey finally mastered the three round burst. Zazie and Bernie Welch tied for first with pistols. They shot over 100 rounds each with neither missing and that is a feat with hand guns. So it was decided that if either one won the quick draw, he would also be declared the winner of the pistol sharpshooter award.  
  
Finally the Quick Draw Tournament started, right around two PM. As expected, Zazie and Bernie trounced the opposition. Ned Pitts didn't compete. He was covered with enough glory that he didn't need to be covered with paint. Only a cock-eyed optimist would have gone up against Zazie or Bernie. But several tried and I saw Ben Evans, E.G. Mine, Grey, and Jake splattered with red paint.  
  
It all came down to the moment of truth between Zazie and Bernie Welch. Just as in the contest between Chapel and Zazie, Caine was officiating. Zazie and Bernie walked down to take their places thirty yars apart. Rai- dei stopped Zazie to tell him one last thing.  
  
The crowd was silent with tension as they watched the two contestants. Caine's derringer barked and Bernie and Zazie began to shoot. Bernie was acting very odd. His body jerked and spasmed, twisted and ducked and his bullets kept missing Zazie, but Zazie's shots also missed Bernie. Bernie waved his hands around wildly and he now appeared to be dancing. He jumped and jerked his head, rolled onto the ground and then up again, wriggling and hopping. He finally managed to squeeze off a round that hit Zazie in the chest. And there stood Zazie, dripping with red paint and screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs while Bernie continued to dance and jerk and run and wave his hands wildly. Finally Bernie just ran towards the student quarters like a swarm of bees was after him.  
  
"What the FUCKING FUCK?" roared Zazie. I was amazed that such a small person could be so loud. He used the word for about three minutes with a few other words thrown in. When the audience starting laughing at him, he yelled it louder, yelled, screamed and shouted the word 'fuck' until his throat was raw. It got so fucking funny that Nick and I were almost hysterical watching Zazie's tantrum.  
  
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!!!" he screamed finally at the top of his lungs.  
  
At this, Rai-dei intervened but Zazie would not keep silent. Finally Legato walked over to the boy with silent dignity. He didn't have to say one word. Zazie shut up, bowed to Legato and left the assembly area. I wasn't quite sure what I had witnessed, but it seemed to me that Bernie Welch had won the Quick Draw Tournament.  
  
The Graduation and awards ceremony was set for 5 in the afternoon.  
  
Nick and I walked back to our quarters.  
  
"What the hell just happened back there?" I asked him.  
  
My friend just shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't know," he said shaking his head. "Strangest quick draw contest I ever saw." He paused to pull a cigarette out of his pocket and light it, taking a deep puff with a satisfied sigh.  
  
"Are you feeling better, Middie?" he asked me.  
  
"Like I never felt ill, Nick," I said.  
  
"Wonder what got into Bernie Welch. I'll ask him at the awards ceremony. Are you going? I know you've got rehearsals starting at 4."  
  
" I thought I'd tear myself loose long enough to see the ceremony. I'm sure Legato expects all the instructors to be in attendance. "  
  
"This is my first time teaching. I didn't know it was mandatory. But I was going anyway."  
  
"I should have told you. I keep forgetting you're a novice. I know you hate awards assemblies, but at least Legato and the Evergreen never drag it out."  
  
One great thing about the Academy is the shortness of the assemblies and ceremonies. The longest one I ever went to lasted half an hour. Most clocked in at under 15 minutes. The only reason any one attended at all was to find out first who graduated or didn't. And that scene Zazie made had me shaking my head.  
  
"I'm a little curious to see if Legato will make an announcement about who won the teaching contest, you or Rai-dei?"  
  
"The whole teaching contest idea was totally bogus and unfair. I've had a month with the students and Rai-dei had only two weeks. I don't know why Legato even proposed it.  
  
"You never know with Legato. I always get the impression there's something he's holding back. Did you want to come to the rehearsal, Nick? I'm just stopping in to pick up Silvia."  
  
"I'm going to try to find Bernie Welch. I'm a little worried about him. I want to make sure he's all right. There was definitely something wrong about that match."  
  
"Then I'll see you at the ceremony."  
  
After I picked up Silvia, I went to meet the band. They were at the small band shell where the dance was held every rear at the academy. It was near the picnic/ food preparation area. By the time I arrived, Lenny was already putting Jason through his paces and getting him up to speed on the numbers we planned to do.  
  
Jason was a quick study, I recalled from the evening we played the saloon together. He played with a lot of power. It looked like Lenny had every intention of keeping Dixie busy. He had her shaking the maracas while he gave his bass pedal a workout. Whatever they were doing, it sounded great. I unpacked Silvia and joined the jam. We laughed a lot at our flubs and fluffs. But we all felt pretty good about the state of the musicianship. I took Jason through the two new songs I had composed. He found a spot in each for a fiddle break. Dixie took the opportunity to put down the maracas and pick up one of her harmonicas. What she could do with a mouth harp amazed me.  
  
At five of five, I headed back to the assembly area and saw Nick chatting with Bernie Welch. I couldn't help noticing that Bernie's face and arms were covered with swollen red welts.  
  
As I came closer, I could hear Bernie explaining to Nick.  
  
"I don't know where the hell they came from, these freaking little bees. I'm kind of lucky they were dive-bombing me. Zazie's a hell of a good shot and if I hadn't had cause to dance around so much, there was a better than fifty-fifty chance he would have nailed me. They burn like the devil though."  
  
"You ought to get those looked at Welch," I said as I walked over to join Nick. "That many bee stings could be dangerous."  
  
"That's what the doc said when he saw them. Said I was really lucky. Just a few more stings and I'd of been a goner."  
  
"We'd better shut up and sit down," I said, "Master Legato is back."  
  
Welch walked over to sit with the rest of the students.  
  
Nick and I took seats together.  
  
I relished Legato's ability to command quiet, without saying a word. A hush simply fell on the assembly and Legato spoke .  
  
"This academic year has been a remarkable success. Nearly a quarter of the class is graduating. The caliber of instruction has been particularly high especially in the all crucial last month when students are attempting to demonstrate their mastery of the course content.  
  
This year on the recommendation of Master Knives, four students were sent to us, only one month ago and all four are graduating. These students are Bernard Welch, Benjamin Evans, Jacob Berkis and Edward Pitts. Of the students who have been resident at the academy for a year or more, only two are graduating, Grey Nine-Lives and E.G. the E.G. Mine.  
  
These students are now moving on to assignments with mentors who will help the graduates fine-tune their skills. Benjamin Evans is assigned to Hoppered the Gauntlet, who could not be with us today as he is out on an assignment. E.G. Mine, you will be pleased to learn that your new mentor is Leonof the Puppetmaster.  
  
I saw Mine turn pale at that announcement while Leonof wore a gleeful smile.  
  
Dominique the Cyclops will oversee the efforts of Grey Nine-Lives.  
  
I think she'd been hoping to be assigned Berkis or Welch, she rolled her eyes and snorted with disgust when she heard the announcement.  
  
Chapel the Evergreen will continue to develop the talents shown by Jacob Berkis.  
  
Caine will continue the excellent mentoring of Edward Pitts, and Rai-dei the Blade will mentor Bernard Welch.  
  
Zazie's face turned red with anger when he heard of his teacher's reassignment to his rival.  
  
Legato continued.  
  
"We were very pleased at the performance this year of the so-called "no- talent" students. However, and let my remarks serve as a warning, we were correspondingly disappointed by the performance of one of the "talented" students. We might have overlooked his inability to master some critical weapon systems had he demonstrated other outstanding abilities or a degree of appreciable maturity. But as he continues to mock his superiors and indulge in temper tantrums, he will be held back from graduating for another year or until such time as he proves himself worthy. But enough about this disappointment.  
  
Let's have a round of applause for our graduates, please."  
  
We clapped politely.  
  
"And now it is time for the awards. Legato stepped down from the podium and walked over to the chairs where the graduates sat. Chapel the Evergreen followed him, carrying a small box..  
  
Chapel walked up to Jake Berkis and addressed him. He pulled a green ribbon with a rosette emblazoned with #1.  
  
"Jacob Berkis, it's a pleasure to award you this ribbon for your excellence with the shot gun. As Chapel the Evergreen's apprentice, a part of your duties will include instructing in weapon handling. Thank you for your efforts," he said and shook the youth's hand.  
  
"Grey Nine-Lives," he said, handing Grey a purple ribbon. "Congratulations on your great improvement in marksmanship and classwork. You owe a debt you can probably never repay to Chapel/ Wolfwood."  
  
"Edward Pitts," Legato declared as he handed the lanky sniper a plaque with an engraved bronze inset, "You have earned the golden rifle award which is given every year to the student who proves himself the best with the five basic firearms. Your talents are most impressive." He handed him a yellow ribbon for excellence with the rifle and a red ribbon for excellence with a sniper rifle. With Caine as your mentor, you will take on a number of assignments for Master Knives and pass on your remarkable skills to our students."  
  
He walked up to the final student to be honored.  
  
"Bernard Welch, it was exciting to me to see the amazing progress that can be made when a dedicated, motivated student works with a dedicated, motivated instructor. Congratulations," he said, " for winning the pistol Marksmanship award and the plaque for first place in the Quick Draw tournament." He handed both items to Welch. "Your technique was unorthodox but effective," he continued as he shook the graduate's hand. "With Rai-dei for your mentor, I am certain you will soon master the finer points of bladework and assignments. We have put you in the hands of a total professional and expect great things of you."  
  
Legato went back to the podium and said, "Now it is my pleasure to present the award of Guest Instructor of the Year to our weapon's instructor, Chapel/Wolfwood. Show him your appreciation."  
  
Most of the students clapped warmly for my Nick.  
  
"If any of you should ever fail on a mission, which I am sure you will not, you cannot lay the blame on him. He has done you all proud. So join me in thanking him for his efforts on your behalf. I've never seen an instructor work so hard."  
  
There were quite a few raucous cheers for Chapel. When they died down, Legato continued, "Master Knives also insisted that I should take this occasion to commend Midvalley the Hornfreak on the excellence of his teaching and mentoring skills and present him with the Mentor of the Year plaque.  
  
"Congratulations, Midvalley. You earned this," he said.  
  
The students applauded me and so did Nick with an affectionate look in his eyes.  
  
"That concludes the graduation ceremony," said Chapel the Evergreen. "Let the picnic begin!!" he exclaimed and the students made a bee-line for the refreshment tent.  
  
I turned to leave, plaque in hand," but Legato called to me, "Not so fast, Midvalley. You were so ill this morning, I was very concerned about you. You are better, I hope?"  
  
"Completely well, I think," I said.  
  
"I will listen to the music with great pleasure then," he said. "Sometimes, I worry that your music drains your energy."  
  
"Oddly enough, I think the opposite is true. I believe I get energy from it, when it's flowing well."  
  
"Interesting," he said, and he turned away to confer with Chapel the Evergreen.  
  
Nick and I headed towards the picnic area. As we were passing close to the building where tactics classes were held, we heard Zazie's angry voice, coming from the door well, cursing about something. He couldn't see us, but we moved a little closer to eavesdrop.  
  
"That piece of shit Whorefreak got the mentoring award. And we all know what he mentored him on. Legato's pet is Chapel's lap pal. What a bunch of perverts. They probably didn't graduate me because I didn't ace hand jobs and blow jobs."  
  
"You're full of it, Zazie. No one put any moves on you. You didn't graduate because you lost to Welch and you acted like a total baby about it. I can see why they held you back. You really do need to grow up."  
  
"You fucking shit pants!"  
  
"You know, I'd rather be called shit pants than teeny wienie any day, and that's what everyone is calling you now, thanks to Bernie Welch. Even those snot-nose first year students. You're famous, teeny, just not the way you thought."  
  
"Rot in hell, Mine."  
  
"Don't be such a drama queen."  
  
"You're the queen, you Chapel-loving fag. I bet you let him fuck your face just so you could graduate. You've got less talent than the "no-talents".  
  
"At least I graduated."  
  
"I swear I'll kill you, Mine.  
  
"In your dreams."  
  
" I almost killed Welch."  
  
"Ooh, I'm scared of you, now," said Mine with a mocking tone. "Yeah, and I suppose Welch looked almost dead when he got his award from Legato? Dream on."  
  
"I'll show you all."  
  
"Well don't show your wienie. It's nothing to brag about. Hey, you ought to change your name to "Zazie the Least" in honor of your cocktail sausage," Mine laughed at his own wittiness and ambled out of the door well without a look behind him."  
  
Zazie came out a minute later muttering to himself, "I'll show Rai-dei, I'll show Legato, I'll show that goddamn whorefreak, goddamn fucking Chapel, and GODDAMN FUCKING WELCH!!!!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.  
  
He walked hurriedly towards the student quarters and Nick and I just looked at each other and laughed.  
  
"Next year's not going to be much fun for him," said Nick with a twinkle in his eye.  
  
"I don't feel sorry for him though."  
  
"Neither do I."  
  
"God, the smell of that tomas roast is making my mouth water. Let's eat." 


	21. Graduation NightPart 1

Graduation Night--Part One  
  
Oscar, the cook, had outdone himself again, overseeing all the preparations for the graduation feast. All the salads and side dishes looked and smelled wonderful. The tomas was roasted to perfection and Oscar himself had carved it into succulent slices. Some liked the meat served hot with gravy and mashed potatoes. Others preferred it chilled in sandwiches made of achingly fresh sourdough bread. Nick preferred his hot. I like variety, so I had it both ways.  
  
There were about eight of Leonof's puppets at work in the food tent. Some dished up the cold potato and pasta salads, tossed crisp greens in oversized salad bowls, and cut and cubed chilled melons. Others sliced bread and spread it with soft butter. Two puppets manned the beverage lines, one filled glasses with ice water, lemonade, fruit punch, the other brewed coffee in a large urn. Nick's eyes sparkled when he saw it. He picked the largest mug he could find and filled it to the brim. Legato, the only person I know who started his meal with sweets, was already in dessert heaven. He would, doubtless, have his fill of roast later. For the moment, his picnic plate held several small slivers of pie, cheesecake, brownie bites and one rather larger slice of banana cream pie, piled high with whipped cream and topped with a cherry. As he took a forkful of it, his eyes closed in bliss.  
  
He drifted over to where Nicholas and I were sitting with the rest of my band mates on folding chairs near the stage. As he neared, I noticed that Lenny, with a sudden case of nerves, stood up with his nearly full plate and walked back in a circuitous route towards the refreshment tent.  
  
Legato chuckled mildly when he saw the effect he had on the drummer.  
  
'Have you been spreading tales about me, Midvalley," he asked. "Or is that my reputation precedes me again?"  
  
"The story about Skip Walker's disappearance has had an impact. You have a certain reputation in music circles now."  
  
"You are always the diplomat, Midvalley, and what is a diplomat but a master of the half-truth, a man who understands the fine art of the compromise. I can see by your plate that you're a man after my own heart. I have to love a man who wants to have it both ways at once."  
  
My heart and shoulders sank. Legato and his innuendoes again. The worst part was that now I could feel both Nick and Legato through my link at the same time.  
  
"Oscar has outdone himself again. The pie is sublime."  
  
"It's all good," said Nick as he lit up a cigarette and exhaled with contentment. He had already finished his dinner and would probably pass on dessert, until later.  
  
"You've had a good day, Chapel. You'll probably have an even better one tomorrow when you check the state of your bank balance. And with the schedule of missions that Knives and I have put together for you, you won't have enough free time to spend it. In a couple of months, you'll be such a rich man, you can pay off that debt once and for all. Then maybe you can go back to regular assignments when Midvalley gets this music tour out of his system. And of course, we'll want both back here next year as guest instructors."  
  
Legato drifted back to the buffet for seconds.  
  
After the meal, I bummed a cigarette from Nick. I usually don't smoke before a gig, but somehow, it just felt good. I looked around me, saw the tables around the dance floor filling up with townspeople arriving for the dance. It was a pleasure to see so many couples and families enjoying the day, and realized that I felt pretty good myself.  
  
I feel a stirring of anticipation when I'm getting "up" to play and I felt some of it now as I looked at the audience arriving and recognized some of them. I smiled at the red-headed teller who handled my accounts at the Epril Town Bank. I waved at Miss Adelaide who arrived with one of the barmaids, who'd served us the other day, Josie, her name was. I don't know who Miss Adelaide left minding the White Cat Saloon on a Saturday night, but it must have been someone she trusted, because that's the night all hell breaks loose in town, but all was peaceful here on the academy grounds.  
  
The nicotine kicked in and I felt my shoulders relax and I looked around lazily again and recognized the man from the printing office with a woman who had to be his wife and two energetic boys who were throwing around a ball.  
  
I leaned back in my chair and watched the people go by.  
  
I smiled when I saw Grey Nine-Lives trailing along in Dominique's wake like a love-sick puppy. Ben Evans and Jake Berkis were arm-wrestling clerks and stock boys who worked in the town shops. Caine and Pitts walked slowly, arms round each others shoulders, each clutching a long-necked beer bottle in the free hand. Every now and then, one or the other would take a swallow as they watched the first sun sinking towards the horizon.  
  
Dixie, I noticed idly had moved over to the piano bench and was checking the tuning. Randy was bent over her left shoulder whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. Sunny and Jason brought all the stringed instruments over and started to tune them to Dixie's piano. When Sunny finished with his acoustic guitar, he started to flat-pick a fast old hell- raiser of a blue-grass tune. Jason fell in right behind him with a fiddle break so lively that picnickers who heard it broke into spontaneous applause.  
  
Nick was sitting next to me, smoking with a smile of contentment when he saw his father Chapel the Evergreen beckon him. Nick excused himself and drifted over to see what was on his father's mind.  
  
I carried my dirty dishes over to the food tent and watched with delight as the Evergreen said a few words and then pulled his son into a hug and released him. Nick wore a pleased smile of surprise. The Evergreen spoke some more and Nick's smile grew strained, then finally gave way to defensiveness, irritation and finally exasperation. He held it in pretty well, I thought. He didn't explode at least. The funny thing about those eye implants, for a man who didn't miss much, Chapel the Evergreen was somehow completely oblivious to the emotional state he had put his son in. I didn't need empathy to see that Nick's temper had come close to boiling over.  
  
After his father left, Nick stayed in the same spot, leaning up against a fence and scraping the ground with the toe of his soft desert boot. I walked up behind him and slid an arm around his shoulder. He shrugged away with irritation, then let loose a heavy sigh when he saw it was me.  
  
"I thought it was my dad again," he said.  
  
"It looked like you two had a nice moment there."  
  
"Moment is right," said Nick as he fumbled with his matches.  
  
"He congratulated you on 'Instructor of the Year', right?"  
  
"Yeah, and it was all downhill from there. He was completely surprised that I got it at all considering all the deficiencies he noticed in my conduct."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"Well, he told me not to screw up on my new assignments, to take better care of my motorcycle, not to expect a free ride on assignments just because I'm his son--as if I ever had," said Nick with some bitterness.  
  
"I know," I said softly. "I know, Nick."  
  
"Plus it seems that Master Knives is looking for an agent for a special assignment and Dominique and I will be under scrutiny, so I'd better start submitting some in-depth field reports. He's supposedly been catching flak because of their sloppiness, which is tomas shit because the only field report I filed in the past six months is the one I submitted when you got the concussion."  
  
He quieted and exhaled a breath of smoke and I slid my arm around his back again.  
  
"You could take better care of your motorcycle. He just worries about you. Like I will. It's just your dad's way of telling you he loves you."  
  
I felt him relax. His mood lightened. He slid his arm around me and time stood still and all that existed was the smoke of his cigarette drifting and spiraling, our hearts beating in peaceful unison, and our arms locked as the first sun slid below the horizon. When the next moment finally came, we walked back to the bandstand together without exchanging another word.  
  
When we arrived, I took Silvia from her case, licked my lips, tossed off a blues-y riff and checked my tuning against Sonny's.  
  
"Oh, yeah, just right. I could tune to you in my sleep," said the guitarist. "Did you know, I hear your sax in my dreams. For real."  
  
Lenny had managed to ease his way back without drawing Legato's attention and sat at his drums, checking to see if the bass drum needed less mute with Dave, tightening the head of his snare drum and tapping lightly on his cymbals. From the perimeter of the picnic area, Dave gave him a thumbs up. "Sounds good, Lenny."  
  
The dance hadn't officially started. We were still warming up.  
  
Dixie launched into a piano rag that had us all jamming along. She tried out her voice on some vocals. Her voice was a little tight with pre-gig jitters.  
  
"Can I get you a cup of the spiked punch, Dixie?" I asked.  
  
"That'd warm up my vocal cords, Midvalley. Thanks for thinking of it," she said.  
  
"I'll get it," said Nick, "and some more beers for the band?"  
  
"Thanks, Chapel. You got our number," piped up Toby and Jason.  
  
After Nick got back, Lenny was antsy to begin, so without preamble he gave us the word and the word was, "No Way Left but Up". This tune rocked with high-spirits and soon had the office girls and stock boys jitterbugging and gyrating in time to the infectious beat that Lenny laid down. Cheers and whistles rewarded our efforts, then we played another fast one to burn up a little more of their pent-up energy, and prepare them for the slower fox-trot that followed.  
  
When the foxtrot was over but before they could leave the dance floor, we followed with "Low-down Hoe-down". This was an old Texas swing tune turned inside out with rock guitar, jazz fiddle and me along for the ride on sax. The rhythms were so catchy, it had all of us musicians tapping our feet to it. Jason's fiddling was so inspired, it acted like a fountain of youth for the older dancers, who kicked up their heels like youngsters.  
  
It seemed like everyone and his grandmother was dancing along on this one. I even saw Nick stepping around the floor with a delighted smile on his face clasping the small hands of a beaming brown-haired young girl in a purple polka dot dress who looked just as happy to be dancing with the handsome priest. He was careful to steer her out of the paths of careless dancers. A warm feeling of love flowed over me as I watched him with a smile in my heart and with that feeling I closed my eyes and played.  
  
The rest of the set was pure musical joy.  
  
"Really nice set, Midvalley," said Lenny when we were done and he brushed his hand across my shoulders as he stepped down to find another beer.  
  
My eyes scanned the crowd for Nick. He was easy enough to find, tall as he is. He was engaged in an impromptu soccer game with the printer's sons. He killed himself laughing when the littlest boy slipped the ball past him through his legs. He did a double take and looked so comical that it made me laugh. I swear, sometimes he acted just like a big kid. There was a lot of sweetness in Nick, but nothing brought it out in him like the presence of children.  
  
I went over to the refreshment tent and got a cup of coffee and cream, spiked it with a shot of bourbon and sipped it as I watched the second sun go down, painting the sky with bands of orange, pink and violet.  
  
Leonof had taken responsibility for the lighting and had overseen the hanging of strings of small bulbs from the open rafters above the dance floor. As if to help out, fireflies flitted and fluttered adding their random glimmers and exciting the active children who chased them with delight.  
  
Dixie sat down at the piano and softly played with her eyes closed. Randy sat down beside her on the piano bench, put his arm around her waist, and kissed her cheek tenderly. He wore a look of wonder in his eyes as he watched her. She opened her eyes and smiled back at him with a sexy promise of what lay in store for him back at the hotel when the gig was over.  
  
That put me in mind of my tall and tender priest and my heart began to beat fast with anticipation of the pleasure of his body on this last night before we parted. He wouldn't be gone so long, I thought. A month at most. Two would be the outside limit. Anything beyond that I couldn't imagine. And my thoughts went back to thinking up ways to give him pleasure.  
  
And there he was suddenly in front of me.  
  
"That's quite a smile on your face," he said. "What are you thinking about?"  
  
"You."  
  
He sat down on the chair next to mine, sprawled back on it with his eyes closed. His left hand found my right and he squeezed it affectionately. I felt such a glow of happiness from him. I sighed in contentment and looked around me. Caine and Pitts were kissing again with a rapturous intensity that was down-right inspiring. Husbands and wives were whispering sweet nothings. Dave and Lenny shared a tender moment as they both contemplated his drum set, arms crisscrossed on each others backs. A beautiful summer evening.  
  
Dixie, Sunny and Randy started the set by playing "Sound Life". Then the rest of us one by one went up to the bandshell, picked up our instruments, and joined in with them. Dixie could belt out a raunchy blues with the best of them, but now she just sang like the purest of angels, her beautiful alto, full and strong. She soon had the audience singing along even Sunny, Toby, Jason, and Randy and Lenny. As for me, I let Silvia do my singing.  
  
I nodded my head at Pitts as he swung Caine around waltzing to the old song. When the song was over, Dixie played the opening chords of "Under a Pale Moon" and she started to sing.  
  
The band tunes up, A pale moon's up, Slow dancing begins. Our hearts beating, Our eyes meeting, "May I have this dance?" And the mood flows and The man knows I'm in love, He knows I'm in love.  
  
The song had a lilting melody and the dance floor filled with couples slow- waltzing and embracing.  
  
Sometimes I'm restless, My soul cries out, "Let me be free." Sometimes I'm lonely, My heart cries out, "Baby, love me."  
  
The band did instrumental breaks, Jason and I took turns with solos and then Dixie added some nice piano work just before she started the second verse.  
  
The dance ending, Now he's bending , To talk soft in my ear. His lips seeking, His eyes speaking, Oh, love me tonight. And the mood flows and The man knows I'm in love, He knows I'm in love.  
  
Jason's violin sang the chorus, then Silvia sang it again, and then Dixie.  
  
Sometimes I'm restless, My soul cries out, "Let me be free." Sometimes I'm lonely, My heart cries out, "Baby, love me."  
  
Caine and Pitts kissed as they danced, clinging tenderly to each other. I think the song meant a lot to them. It meant a lot to me. When I composed it, the image I held in my mind as the notes flowed through me was the sweetness of Nick's innocence on the night I kissed him for the first time.  
  
We took another round of solos. Silvia was inspired. I saw Nick smoking with his eyes closed. He seemed at peace.  
  
Legato in a chair nearby tapped his fingers in time with the music. Rai- dei leaned over his left shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Legato didn't look at him once, but dismissed him with a wave of the hand.  
  
We played through the song one more time and finished to warm applause from the dancers.  
  
Then Dixie sang my other song "Breathless". Guitar, fiddle and bass started the song.  
  
Watching the suns set, On a slow summer night, Your hand in my hand, We're holding on tight. We're holding on tight.  
  
I remembered the evening walks, Nick and I used to take after a gig. The scrape of the bow on Jason's fiddle as he soloed reawakened memories of the passionate yearning I felt for my partner before he became my lover.  
  
Walking together in the dark, One by one the stars appear, A moon comes up to gently light the fire of love.  
  
Dixie's warm vibrant voice infused the words with feeling, as I remembered how hot Nick and I had been for each other and the unashamed joy we took in each others bodies.  
  
Softly a breeze falls like your touch on my skin, Whispering to tell me it's time to begin. It's time to begin.  
  
I shivered in remembrance of the pleasure he took in stroking my skin and my feelings of being loved when he touched me so.  
  
I was so lonesome and so blue, Now my life is filled with sun, Cause, honey, that's what I've begun To see in you.  
  
I realized how much he had given me since he came into my life. All the one-night stands had only increased my feelings of loneliness. But Nick's love had given me joy and I realized that I had been living a kind of half- life until he came along.  
  
Watching the suns rise on A new summer day, Oh, honey, you take my breath away, Oh, honey, you take my breath away.  
  
It was all true. And after Dixie finished, Silvia and I swung into our solo, a pure outpouring of musical emotion. I held onto to those feelings and let the breath flow through me while Silvia sang the notes and embraced each phrase. My eyes closed and the music flowed like the sound of wind and water, the play of each instrument like a thread interwoven in a beautiful tapestry . The song ended too soon, but I came to myself and the band took bows as the audience gave us warm applause.  
  
I went over to Dixie at the piano.  
  
"Thanks," I said to her. "You sang them both beautifully."  
  
"Anytime, Midvalley," she said. "That was one hell of a solo you coaxed out of Silvia."  
  
"I'll say," said Lenny, "but it's time for a change of pace. Now that they're feeling all gooey and lovey-dovey, we should play some hell- raisers so they have the energy to do something about it later tonight."  
  
I know my grin got goofy when I thought about what I wanted to do with Nick later, and we swung into "Cocksure" and damned if the dancers didn't get closer than I would have dreamed possible. Modest shop girls with bold hands cupped the asses of wide-eyed stock boys, who responded in kind. The dancers shimmied and bumped to the torrid beat and the hot urgent moans of Silvia. They turned, twirled and cried out from sheer animal spirits and the cheers and wolf whistles when we finished were intense. The way the couples sagged against each other after the dance was finished, I knew they'd had a good time all right. Rai-dei was one who had been wolf- whistling. He loved that tune and wore a broad smile on his face. He caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up.  
  
"I think we can sneak in another break on the basis of what we've done so far," said Lenny. "That beer went straight to my bladder. Anyone else need to go to the can?"  
  
Toby and Jason raised their hands. Lenny grinned and announced to the crowd, "The band will be taking a short break, but don't go away, we've got lots more music in store for you."  
  
When I got back from the rest room, I looked around for Nick but didn't see him anywhere. I saw Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen deep in one of their serious conversations.  
  
Rai-dei was conferring with Legato again and appeared to be asking a question. Rai-dei listened respectfully to the response, then bowed and excused himself and strode off in the direction of the student apartments. I wondered what was going on in that quarter. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Zazie all evening, but if Legato had raked me over the coals the way he had Zazie, I would have laid low and stayed out of his sight too.  
  
I was trying to remember something about Legato, a nagging something at the edge of my consciousness, like the snatch of a dream and voices whispering, but I couldn't catch hold of it. I caught the smell of tobacco and felt an arm curl comfortably around my waist.  
  
"Damn, Midvalley" said Nick with an admiring tone, "that last song was something else. Dave and Lenny have slipped off somewhere and can't be found. Caine and Pitts have dropped out of sight and there are at least two couples making love under the bleachers. I don't know how it happened but this almost doesn't seem like Planet Gunsmoke tonight. The moon, the music, the lights, all these happy couples.It's as if love is in the air. Hard to believe what we do for a living or that somewhere in town right now, there are about ten murders and fifty rapes being committed."  
  
He fell silent as the heaviness of the last thought sank in. He felt in his jacket for his cigarettes, but I took his hands and put them around my neck and pulled him into an embrace, found his lips with mine and savored them. Kissing him was like balm poured on my heart, pure comfort.  
  
I heard Dixie call me from nearby. It was quite dark where Nick and I were embracing. I don't think she saw us.  
  
"Midvalley, Lenny and Dave finally made it back and we're all ready when you are to start the next set or did you need a few more minutes?"  
  
I released Nick's lips reluctantly.  
  
"I'm coming now," I called back to her.  
  
"Good for you, boys," she giggled and I heard her voice receding.  
  
It only took us a few steps to catch up with her.  
  
"Hey, we weren't doing anything," said Nick.  
  
"You will," she chuckled. 


	22. Graduation Night Part 2

Graduation Night-Part Two  
  
The third set was pure fun. We played lots of silly tunes--polkas, waltzes and a new dance called the "Tomas Strut". The last song we played before the break was a popular party dance called the Sandworm Shuffle. People lined up behind a leader, in this case, Dixie, who had volunteered to start the thing off. Randy, who'd begged Lenny for a break, hurried up behind her and put his hands on her waist. A pretty blonde woman boldly placed hers on his and then Jake Berkis grabbed hold of the blonde's.  
  
Lenny started us up with some crazy rhythm on cowbell, wood block and drums, while Jason filled in with maracas. Silvia joined in with some hot saucy riffs and the shuffle picked up dancers and steam. Eventually, there must have been over fifty people in the weaving line that curved in and around the picnic tables and back to the dance floor.  
  
Music wasn't Dixie's only talent. I could see now that she could shimmy and shake with the best of them. Randy was sure enjoying the show. Halfway down the line, Nick and the little girl in the purple dress were shuffling and giggling with high spirits. Dominique brought up the rear with Grey still following her faithfully and as smitten as ever, his efforts to shimmy heroic but laughable. It was really fun to play and watch the antics of the dancers.  
  
Legato was invited several times to join the group but had no difficulty in resisting. He was fastidious about who he touched and allowed to touch him back. It gave me pause when I realized that I was one of the few in that select group. Then the "Sandworm" passed right by my place at the bandstand and when Nick shuffled by he gave me a big smile. It was all I could do to keep from laughing with my lips on Silvia. God, he was cute tonight.  
  
After fifteen minutes of non-stop percussion, even Lenny's legendary stamina started to waver and we finally wound the song down to the mutual relief of musicians and dancers. All of us were streaming with sweat. Dixie and Randy led the dancers in giving us a big round of applause. Then the line broke up and people milled about, returning to their tables or headed for the beverage tent or toilets.  
  
As I set Silvia down for the break, I saw Legato sitting down in the chair that he had seemed to claim as his own. He was holding a plate of sweets, Turkish Delight, chocolate-covered coffee beans, an éclair and a slice of coconut cream pie.  
  
At the same time, Nick returned from escorting the girl back to her parents.  
  
"I've brought rewards for the songsmith and his muse," announced Legato. "You really should try one of these chocolate-covered coffee beans, Chapel."  
  
"Coffee?"  
  
Nick's ears perked up at this and he held out his hand. Legato handed him five of the beans, all he had.  
  
"And for you, Midvalley, I have a lovely éclair. I seem to recall you enjoy cream filling. This one looks about ready to explode in the mouth."  
  
"I don't think I could eat the whole thing," I said. "Maybe half."  
  
"I really don't mind sharing with you, Midvalley," he smiled as he cut the dessert in half with his fork and handed a portion to me. "It gives me pleasure."  
  
"These coffee beans are wonderful," remarked Nick ignoring the double meanings packed in Legato's last comments.  
  
I took a bite of the pastry and sighed. It really was delicious.  
  
"I took the liberty of telling Oscar to put some of those coffee beans in with the box lunch he is preparing for your departure tomorrow, Chapel," Legato continued. "Tomorrow we will both be leaving the academy. I will rejoin my master and you will be carrying out assignments for him while Midvalley spends the next months making sweet love to Silvia."  
  
"That's my plan," I said serenely as I licked away a bit of chocolate that had clung to my lips. Legato focussed on the movement, but spoke on with the same light tone.  
  
"I have truly enjoyed the music this evening. There is much I despise about that drummer of yours, Midvalley, but he is an extraordinary musician. They all really are quite good. I know I've said it before, but I seem to forget my cares when I hear you play."  
  
Nick pulled out a pack of Black Kat cigarettes and offered the smokes to Legato and me. We each took one and Nick struck a match , cupped his hand around the flame, lit them and then took the chair beside me, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.  
  
"Will Rai-dei be leaving the academy tomorrow as well, Legato?" asked Nick.  
  
"Yes, he plans to. But he believes he has some unfinished business with Zazie the Beast. He always felt that the Beast had extraordinary potential, but the resistance to training was difficult to overcome in the two weeks allotted."  
  
The blue haired man looked thoughtful as he seemed to consider this fact and then after a pause said, "Resistance to following orders is a pet peeve of Master Knives. He has no patience for it."  
  
I wondered why Legato even brought the subject up. Surely not for my benefit, but for Nick's?  
  
"I have no trouble following Master Knives' orders," I said and brought up a thought that I'd been curious about since my discussion with Leonof that morning. "I heard through Leonof that Knives had a relapse. He seemed to do better when you were there to care for him."  
  
Legato seemed subdued as he responded. "I had hoped that with the progress he had made, my master's health would improve rapidly. He may have pushed himself too hard in my absence. I should not have left him so long, but he encouraged me to come for the good of the academy and though I have successes to report, he will be deeply disappointed in Zazie. He expected great things from him. I fear he will take my failure badly."  
  
"Ah," I said.  
  
"But he is quite excited by your potential, Chapel. He is looking forward to reading your field reports of the missions he has assigned you. He has offered to increase your pay, if future reports are more comprehensive."  
  
"I could do that," said Nick.  
  
Then Legato stood and headed back to the refreshment tent, chewing on a bite of éclair.  
  
I saw Lenny on stage give me a subtle look that meant it was time to begin again. He hadn't wanted to interrupt my conversation with Legato. I stood up, stretched and went up to join the band.  
  
Our playing the last set was as good as it gets when we're all warmed up. Sometimes a fourth set is a bit of a let down, but the evening had been special to me and I had mixed feelings when the last song was over. When the music is flowing well, I never want it to end, but I also knew that this was my last night with Nick for a while and I wanted to be with him. I felt a thrill run through me as I remembered the passion promised by our interrupted kiss as I packed up Silvia. I looked up and saw Nick contemplating me with a sexy grin that made me hot.  
  
I made my good-byes to the band and told Lenny I'd meet him tomorrow to make plans for the tour, then stepped down to the ground and fell in step with Nick. Exactly where we were walking I hadn't a clue. I just wanted to enjoy the coolness of the evening breezes, the beauty of the heavenly bodies and the company of the man who strolled beside me.  
  
"Let's not rush," I said. "Let's get away from this crowd and be together for a while just like this."  
  
"We could stay up all night," he whispered in my ear.  
  
"I'd like nothing better," I sighed.  
  
We walked under the light of the moons with soft breezes flowing. Picnickers were exiting the grounds, sleepy toddlers nestled in parents' arms. The band loaded their instruments including Miss Adelaide's piano into a large van and drove off with Dave at the wheel. The crowds thinned, then disappeared and we continued to walk.  
  
Finally, we were completely alone in an area just inside the entry wall of the academy grounds. There was something erotic about the dark and quiet with the only sounds the wind and each others breathing. My hands moved under his jacket feeling the firm muscled flesh, so warm and solid. His fingers unbuttoned my jacket and pulled out my shirt-tail. His hands pushed up under the shirt and came to rest on my nipples, which he brushed with the feather-light touch of his fingertips. The sensation stirred my groin.  
  
"Ah, Midvalley," he sighed and put his arms around me. He pressed close to me. I loved the way our bodies fit each other and we stood gently rubbing sex against sex while the play of our tongues licked our passion into flames. And then he stopped dead in the middle of a touch, his body suddenly wired with tension.  
  
"Listen," he hissed.  
  
I had heard only his soft whispers of pleasure as my passion rose, but now my ears caught the rattle and clink of chains, the scrape of heavy boots on pavement, harsh laughter, the chunk of fists on flesh and moans of pain. Nick was already in motion yarz ahead of me with his pistol drawn. I was right after him on the run pulling Silvia from her case. I followed him through the gates of the school and out into the dusty street where in the moonlight, I saw a group of toughs had ganged up on a couple who had left their departure from the dance too late.  
  
One glance told the story. A man struggled fiercely in the middle of a pack of five thugs, while another group of three raped his girl friend. The man kicked at his assailants, trying his best to get free and rescue the girl, but there were too many. The woman was naked pinned to the ground by a big man in biker leather who rode her hard with savage grunts while his accomplices held her wrists and ankles.  
  
Nick sized up the situation at once. His lethal automatic spat lead, rapid- fire. I feared to use Silvia because she might harm the victims, but I watched sickened, as a brawny tough in patched denim snapped the man's neck back with a chain, just before Nick's bullet took his life. In just a few more seconds, all the attackers were dead or dying. We went over to help the woman.  
  
I didn't recognize her but saw she was very tall and almost ethereally slender with exquisite features and small delicate breasts with nipples like seed pearls that jutted up. Nick had already taken off his jacket and slipped it over her. Silent tears spilled from her eyes as she crawled on her knees over to her lover. She wailed softly when she saw his neck twisted at an impossible angle. It was then that I saw the man's face. It was Ned Pitts, so the woman weeping softly in the moonlight had to be Caine. I have never seen such grief. I don't know whether it was her apparent fragility or the vulnerability of her nudity that evoked my pity, but my heart went out to her.  
  
I saw she was going into shock from the rape and the death of the man she loved, so I picked her up-she weighed very little--and began to carry her back towards the infirmary. Nick's face, I saw with a backward glance, was as grim as I had ever seen it as he took charge of Ned Pitts' corpse.  
  
When I got to the infirmary, I woke the nurse, settled Caine into one of the beds and retrieved Nick's jacket. The nurse injected Caine with a hypodermic, covered her shivering body with more blankets and agreed to keep a close eye on her condition.  
  
Even before I joined Nick at the infirmary's morgue room I was surprised by my own falling tears. Through my link with him, I felt my friend was deeply sad. I pushed through the door of the room where he was sitting hunched over in pain, his right hand hiding the tears I knew were there. His left hand held a lit cigarette with an ash so long I knew he hadn't taken a single drag. I took the cigarette from his fingers before he got burned and put it out in the ash tray on the table next to where he was sitting. I hadn't known he was so fond of Pitts. Although I was upset that he had been killed, Pitts was in many ways a stranger to me and try as I would I couldn't seem to feel his loss with the same intensity as Nick did.  
  
But the silent weeping continued and I felt his pain as if it was my own.  
  
"Oh, God, Nick. I can't stand to see you like this. What's the matter?" I asked him.  
  
He just gestured with his left hand to the beds in the room.  
  
It was then that I understood that there were two beds, a body in each, covered by sheets.  
  
Two bodies. The one nearest the door held Pitts. I walked over to the other with a sinking feeling in my gut, pulled the sheet on the other bed back and saw Bernie Welch's body. He lay there with the stillness of death on him, his face and exposed arms swollen and covered with welts from more bee stings than I have ever seen on one person. Though the temperature outside was beginning to cool, the room we were in had held on to the heat that had built up earlier in the day. Welch's body must have been in the room for some time. I gagged a bit at the smell that came off him.  
  
"Zazie killed him," I murmured to myself.  
  
"What did you say, Midvalley?" asked Nick lifting his head to look at me.  
  
Just then, Legato glided through the door.  
  
"I came as soon as I heard," he said.  
  
He pulled back the sheet that covered Pitts and sighed when he saw the body.  
  
"What a shame," he said. "I thought my master would be angry about Zazie the Beast, but this will come as a blow to him. He had already put together some assignments. It can't be helped. I shall just have to bite the bullet. And Welch is dead, I understand?" he said as he came to stand beside me and viewed the body.  
  
"What happened to his face?" he asked.  
  
"Bee stings."  
  
"Strange."  
  
"Not strange. Zazie killed him, I think."  
  
"That's a serious accusation, Midvalley. Do you have any proof?"  
  
"Just bee stings, a body, and a gut instinct, plus I heard him this afternoon swearing he was 'gonna show fucking Welch.'"  
  
"It's unfortunate, but Chapel the Evergreen and Leonof will have to deal with discipline. I can delay my departure no longer. My master needs me. And you, Chapel, have a full schedule of assignments that start tomorrow. Oh, what has happened to the air cooler? These two must be buried as soon as possible. It stinks of death in here."  
  
Somehow I felt sorry for the man. I could see he had a lot on his mind and volunteered, "I'll handle the arrangements."  
  
"Thank you, Midvalley. I appreciate it," he said and left the room.  
  
Nick was still sad. I knew I could take his mind off things if I gave him a job, but it wasn't just busy work. I needed his help.  
  
"Can you prepare a funeral service, Nick?" I asked him. "These boys will have to be buried soon. This is going to hit Berkis and Evans hard, and Caine is distraught. Someone needs to say something."  
  
"I'll start working on it."  
  
"Good," I said and then I left for the dining facility to find ice to preserve the bodies from further decomposition.  
  
It all took time. The hours slipped away.  
  
Nick and I were in harness again. We split up the work load and got the job done. Finally we met up at the dining facility where Leonof's puppets were engaged in breakfast preparations. Nick was sitting at a table reading some papers while he sipped a mug of coffee. He looked up at me when I came in the door. He was feeling better, I could tell. Nick was not one to stay depressed. I went to the coffee percolator, got myself a cup of coffee and went over to sit with him.  
  
"I worked out the eulogies. Maybe my father will conduct the service. I don't know how much time I have before I need to leave. I should head over to the office and pick up my assignments packet and start planning."  
  
"I'll go with you, if you don't mind."  
  
We walked over to the administration building and went into the mailroom. Nick picked up his packet, opened it and began to read. I walked up the hallway to see if Legato was in. In one of the offices, I heard voices. Nick emerged from the mailroom and joined me where I had stopped quietly.  
  
We heard Chapel the Evergreen speaking.  
  
"So, it finally worked out after all, and of course you will receive your full bonus as your student is graduating. He will go out on assignments immediately with you as his mentor. Your briefing packets are in the mailroom. We knew your student was gifted, but it always seemed that he was all bark and no bite. We despaired that he would ever develop the killer instinct, but Master Knives suggested that you might be of help. Who better for the task than a man trained in the art of shi-ai? But I always thought that shi-ai implied a fair fight. How does it sit with your sense of honor that your student used stealth to kill his opponent?"  
  
"The art of shi-ai is misunderstood. I was not born yesterday. Do you think that everyone I fight to the death is an honorable man? I suppose that if I ever met an honorable man, my conscience might bother me, but as I haven't met one yet," Rai-dei laughed harshly, "I can't say that it does. Deception is just another weapon in the arsenal. So, tell me, Chapel the Evergreen, how do you think that Master Knives' will take Welch's death? I would think he would be pleased by it."  
  
"I don't think he cares one way or the other about Welch. When I contacted him about the matter all he told me was that he was pleased that Zazie finally proved himself. So, on behalf of Master Knives, I thank you, Rai- dei the Blade. The funds and the generous bonus have been deposited in your account."  
  
I could feel anger building in Chapel. He turned and walked quietly towards the exit and pushed through the door. I followed him.  
  
The sky was quite light on the horizon as dawn was about to break.  
  
"So, my own father was in on it, but I can't say I'm surprised. He plays the game with the best of them and Bernie Welch's death means nothing. If I got in my father's way or if he felt I failed him, I doubt he'd think twice about killing me."  
  
"That's a little morose. Face the facts. We all take orders from Master Knives and it isn't healthy to second-guess him. Sometimes a pawn is sacrificed to win the game."  
  
Nick reacted badly to that phrase.  
  
"So , Bernie was just a pawn?"  
  
"We're all pawns in the game. Master Knives has a powerful enemy out there in Vash the Stampede. If it weren't for Knives, there would be no one to oppose that madman. I believe that Knives Millions, in his own way, is the best friend the human species ever had and the only one with the power to prevent every other city on this planet from ending up destroyed the way July City was."  
  
Nick made no reply. He was still thinking about Bernie.  
  
"He wasn't any older than some of the kids at the orphanage in December," he said, with the slightest hint of trembling in his voice.  
  
"I'm sorry, Nick," I said and meant it.  
  
Just then Rai-dei swaggered out the door, down the steps and laughed when he saw us standing there.  
  
"I suppose you heard everything we said, Chapel. I knew it was you out in the corridor. So now you know that Zazie the Beast killed your precious protege. It was the hardest thing to do to push Zazie enough to get him to kill. Despite his foul mouth, when it came to getting the job done, he was as tender as a girl at first, a real sissy, but I finally cured him of that. Your failure is my success."  
  
"I should kill Zazie for what he did to a classmate. He's just a cold- blooded murderer," said Nick.  
  
"Cold-blooded murderer?" Rai-dei laughed with contempt. "That's our job description or have you forgotten? And don't waste a bullet. You can't kill Zazie the Beast. His body is just a vessel for the hive mind, a mind that has the will and power to find another body to inhabit if you kill that one. Maybe he's less of a threat in the body he's in now. After all, what could be more harmless than a small child? Though I believe that Master Knives' knows that nothing can be more deadly than an apparently innocent child who no one suspects has been trained in the art of murder. In certain situations, it's irresistible. What is it that your father says, Chapel? 'The right tool for the job?' By, the way, I thought you ought to know, Chapel, your father thinks that I should have gotten the "Instructor of the Year" award instead of you."  
  
The anger I felt through my link with Nick was red hot now.  
  
Then Rai-dei addressed me.  
  
"Thank you, Midvalley the Hornfreak, for the music. Your skill is amazing, but you waste your talents on Chapel. He will never understand you the way I do. If you ever tire of your plaything," he jerked his thumb at Nick contemptuously, "come to me and I will show you how a real man does it."  
  
Nick dropped the assignment packet on the ground and launched himself like a rabid wolf at Rai-dei with intent to do serious mayhem, but I threw my arms around his chest to hold him back.  
  
Just then, Legato's armored car stopped in front of headquarters and he stepped out into the light of the first sunrise. I was sure he had seen the drama between the two play out but couldn't resist a little mockery at our expense.  
  
I released Nick who controlled himself in Legato's presence but continued to glare at Rai-dei.  
  
"Ah, I see you and Chapel were enjoying a last hug before you part. How very romantic, Midvalley. As for you, Rai-dei, you may as well give up on trying to seduce our beloved Sax God. You haven't the talent for it, but Chapel does. And we thought he had no talent. Perhaps, Chapel used his "Demon's Eye" on Midvalley, for the former libertine has become the very heart and soul of fidelity now, more's the pity."  
  
Legato addressed the three of us.  
  
"Good-bye, Rai-dei, and good luck. I doubt you'll need luck, Chapel. Just remember all the money that's going to be rolling into your bank account and keep up the good work. Midvalley, I've enjoyed the time we've spent together. Thank you for stepping in to handle the funeral details. I really must rejoin my master without further delay. I regret that we may have to cut your music tour short by just a bit, due to the loss of Pitts and Welch. But I will contact you in the next month or so depending on Master Knives' requirements."  
  
"Legato-sama, a moment please before you go?" asked the samurai.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"About the teaching contest you proposed. You never said who won. Was it Chapel or me?"  
  
Despite the humble air the samurai affected when he posed the question, the expression in his eyes showed supreme confidence.  
  
"Does it mean so much to you then, Rai-dei the Blade?" asked Legato with just the faintest touch of impatience.  
  
"Yes," the samurai said, with his head bowed.  
  
"Rest assured, Rai-dei," Legato said in a languid tone and he paused, while a smug smile covered the samurai's face, "that it wasn't you."  
  
With that last remark, which hit Rai-dei hard, Legato stepped back into his vehicle, closed the door after him and his driver pulled away.  
  
Rai-dei gave Chapel a disgusted look, turned on his heel and walked off in search of Zazie.  
  
Nick picked up his packet, pulled out his first assignment sheet and started to read it again. He looked troubled.  
  
"What's the matter, Nick?"  
  
"I have to go."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I mean I have to go now. This is it, Midvalley. This is good-bye. I've got to be in Mei City by noon today to kill a man. I've got to pack and leave in a half-hour."  
  
He pulled the eulogies he had written out of his breast pocket and handed them to me.  
  
"Please have my father read this for their friends and for Caine," he said in a voice husky with emotion. "I'm going to miss you, Midvalley."  
  
He put his arms around me and kissed me one last time. I could feel the throbbing of his heart through his chest pressed so tightly against my mine. I kissed him back ardently, my heart full of pangs of regret already. I fought to hold back tears.  
  
"I have to go," he whispered again in a choked voice and tore himself away.  
  
"Good-bye, lover," I whispered back. He smiled at me one last time over his shoulder when he heard those words and walked away. 


	23. Moonlighting

Moonlighting  
  
As quick as that, Nick was gone. I lost track of time feeling the heaviness of my loss, thinking of all the things I had wanted to share with him before we'd said good-bye. Finally the grumbling of my stomach and the recollection that I had a lot to do, pulled me out of my funk.  
  
I felt a lot better after breakfast and my thoughts began to take on a more positive aspect. I put my separation from Nick into perspective. It was really only temporary. If I missed him so much, there was no doubt in my mind that I could track him down within hours and then what, jump his bones? How pathetically needy was I? On the one hand, I thought with a leer, pretty needy. On the other hand, for God's sake, let the man earn his money and pay off his debt. And then we can really spend some quality time together.  
  
Before my daydreams got completely out of hand, I checked my to-do list for the day. I hadn't wanted to think of it, but attending the funeral and packing to leave was at the top of the list.  
  
I stayed for the funeral of Bernie Welch and Ned Pitts because I think that Nick would have wanted me to. Dominique arrived at the service with her arm around Caine, who was shrouded head to foot in a heavy buckskin cloak, her face mask back in place. The only part of her body not covered was her right eye, which I saw at once was blood-shot and wet from tears. When she saw my eyes on her, she looked away at once.  
  
The grave side service was held at a small cemetery less than a half-ile from the academy. Chapel the Evergreen's conduct of the service was serious, but hardly heart-felt. He sped through the eulogies so fast I barely registered that he was saying them, and then he was done.  
  
I stayed after for a few moments to talk with Berkis and Evans. The two boys had no idea that Zazie had killed their friend, Welch. They were under the impression that his death was an unlucky accident. I said nothing to alter that view. They were more upset over Pitts' death because it seemed to cry out for vengeance and they had been unlucky enough to miss out on administering it. They told me to pass on their thanks to Chapel for making Pitts' murderers pay with their lives.  
  
Caine's posture was dejected. Dominique seemed genuinely concerned for her friend's emotional state. I would have approached and offered my condolences, but every time I made a move of that kind, Caine shrank away. Whatever emotional problems she may have had before the rape, that caused her to cover her body and wear a mask seemed to have intensified in its aftermath. I saw that she now wrapped her arms in gauze tape. Faint blood stains showed through the fabric near her wrists and wondered if she had tried to kill herself. She looked distraught enough to have made the attempt.  
  
When the service was over, I returned to the academy. From there, I called a taxi, took Silvia and the rest of my baggage, walked to the administration building and settled myself on the steps to wait for my ride to the sand steamer depot. It was starting to get hot.  
  
I saw Zazie come out of the student apartments carrying a duffle sack. He looked like he was headed my way. I could tell the exact moment when he noticed me sitting on the steps, because he lurched mid-gait and hesitated. He and I had never been on friendly terms especially since the assembly when I had slapped him for insulting Nick. After that moment of indecision, he kept on walking and took a seat on the steps and waited with me. He didn't acknowledge my presence, but I took the opportunity to observe him closely. He looked miserable. His eyes were red and swollen. I was curious.  
  
He and I shared the cab into Epril Town, but Zazie never said a word to me or looked me in the eye. I think he was ashamed to. Every now and then, he'd forget I was there. He must have had a lot on his mind. He looked out the window of the cab as if the dust clouds the cab kicked up were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, but I could see his cheek was wet. He wanted to hide the fact he was crying, but I've done the same more than a few times. He wasn't fooling me a bit. I knew all the clues to look for and there was no doubt in my mind that he was crying. Foul-mouthed, tough- talking Zazie the Beast. It made me wonder if, maybe, I had misjudged him. But when we arrived in town and went our separate ways, I thought no more about him.  
  
I had the cabby drop me off at the depot. I booked a second-class berth on the next steamer out, checked my bags then walked up the street to the bank to look over my balance and make a withdrawal. With the money I'd saved from living simply, holding down two jobs, the bonuses and royalties from "Hornfreak Gold", I was sitting on a nest egg of just under 500,000 double dollars. That may sound like a lot, but I planned to buy a house in Mei City and recording equipment. I figured I'd end up spending over half of my savings on that alone. The old technology was rare and outrageously expensive.  
  
It was a little after noon when I got back to the depot. I'd had very little sleep the past week and fatigue was catching up with me. I planned to take a nap in my steamer berth and could hardly wait to crash. I was nodding off as it was. Finally the steamer arrived. I boarded and showed my ticket to the conductor who pointed me in the direction of the second- class berths. I asked for a wake-up call when we got to Mei City, crawled into the bed and was asleep before the steamer even left the station.  
  
I slept like the dead, despite the noise in the corridors. The courtesy wake-up call came fifteen minutes before we reached Mei City, so I tidied myself up and stepped out into the corridor, a little more refreshed just as the steamer was coming to a stop.  
  
By the time I claimed my luggage it was a quarter to five in the afternoon. I took a cab to the Maytime Hotel and registered. The room they gave me was right across the hall from the one that Nick and I had rented just two weeks earlier, I noticed with a twinge of melancholy. After I unpacked and settled in I walked to a real estate office I'd seen on the way in. It was a little late in the day to look at houses for sale, but I left the office with a fairly thick stack of listings and an early appointment with an agent who agreed to show me any properties that caught my interest.  
  
I went back to the hotel café, ordered coffee, a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tomato soup, then spent the next half-hour poring over the listings while I ate. I was looking for a comfortable house. Nothing too large or extravagant,, but one that might have a large outbuilding that could be converted into a recording studio. I earmarked a dozen that I thought might fill the bill.  
  
With that out of the way, I wondered what to do next. I expected the rest of the band to arrive later that evening. The van Dave was driving was slower than the sand steamer and they probably got a late start.  
  
Sundays, in most towns and cities, there's never much music going on except for hymns the holy rollers sing in church. Everyone else is nursing hangovers, I guess. Even the most beautiful music can feel like salt on a wound when you've got the twirly-whirlies and the headache from hell earned the night before.  
  
One thing I liked though was that I was back in a town where there were a lot more musicians and places to play. Epril Town was too much of a musical backwater for me to even try to set up a studio there. First there's no music store. If I ever had a reed go bad, needed a new mouthpiece or to refit the felt on my stops, I couldn't find the parts I needed in Epril Town but had to send away to Monk's Music. I thought I might drop by the store, even though it's closed on Sunday, just to check out the flyers and see what musicians were expected in town. I was excited to be back in a real city again.  
  
I went to the May Queen club for a drink, though I still hadn't caught up on the sleep I'd missed. Late hours are such a habit with me, it seemed ridiculous to go to bed just because I was tired. Bored was more like it, anyway. I brought Silvia along just in case.  
  
The club manager, a tall, ruddy blond man a little thick through the waist, recognized me the minute I walked in the door.  
  
"Well, well, if it isn't Midvalley the Hornfreak," he said as he walked over to meet me, "the club is privileged tonight."  
  
"Theron Fleming's the name," he said as he gripped my hand. "Funny we've never been formally introduced, but I'm one of your biggest fans."  
  
"Yeah, I seem to recall you like sax music," I said. "I guess that's why you didn't announce us as the Lenny Lennox Five that night of the concert."  
  
"You didn't take offense at that, I hope," Fleming said, the high color on his face going one shade darker. From the look he wore, I knew he'd heard the talk about Skip Walker and had no doubt seen the pictures of Chapel and me in the "Daily Dish" after the Burns execution.  
  
"I'm over it now," I said, just to yank his chain.  
  
He looked about ready to have a heart attack when I said that, so I punched him lightly on the biceps and said, "Just kidding."  
  
He thought that over a second or two and then chuckled low and shook his head.  
  
"What brings you to my club tonight? You're not scheduled to play until Friday night. I see you brought your horn along. Let me buy you a drink and we'll shoot the breeze. What's your pleasure? Bourbon, scotch, brandy?"  
  
"An Irish Coffee, if it's not too much trouble."  
  
"That sounds good. Think I'll join you," he said and called out the order to a bartender who must have just started his shift.  
  
He looked as sleepy as I felt, but yawned and bustled to comply.  
  
We sat down at a small table. The club was empty of customers. Even for a Sunday that was unusual.  
  
"Seems dead in here. Where are all your customers?"  
  
"Up the street at the Bedbug.  
  
"The Bedbug!?" I snorted. "That dive? Whatever for?"  
  
"Hot Lips McCoy just blew into town and he got his start at the Bedbug, so he's doing a freebie for old times sake. Hell, I'd go there myself, but someone's got to watch the club. There have been a few robberies this past month," explained Fleming.  
  
"Hot Lips McCoy," I murmured out loud.  
  
Fleming had definitely gotten my attention. McCoy was one of the best trumpet players ever. I hadn't seen him in years. I first met him when he'd played the White Cat in Epril Town years ago when I was just ten and had been taking sax lessons for a year. The reason I remember him so well was that every time he blew into town for a gig, he'd visit the whorehouse and spend the whole night with my mother. The next morning she would fix him breakfast.  
  
The first time he visited and heard me practicing, he told me he thought I had real talent and would make a "hell of a player" some day. He used to come back maybe once a month for a while. Seems like every time he came, we'd spend some time together after his breakfast, and he'd teach me a little bit more about how to play. It didn't feel like lessons the way he explained things.  
  
That stopped after my mother died and I started at the academy. Still over the years from time to time our paths would cross. I could count on one hand the number of times we jammed together, but each had been memorable.  
  
"You know him?"  
  
"We've met," I gulped the rest of my coffee and Fleming's smile was rueful.  
  
I was curious so I asked, "Has he got any players to back him up or is it a solo gig?"  
  
"That I don't know."  
  
I stood up to go.  
  
"Leaving so soon, Hornfreak?" asked Fleming with a disappointed sigh.  
  
"Maybe I'll be back later. I've really got to check out the action."  
  
"Can't blame you. Hey, since you know him, maybe you could bring him back with you when you're through. I'd love to book him in here."  
  
"Maybe," I said. "Hey, thanks for the drink and the tip about McCoy. I appreciate it."  
  
"Yeah, but you're leaving."  
  
"I'll be back later," I said with a smile and ambled out the door with a tight feeling of anticipation in my gut and Silvia's case in my hand.  
  
I walked up the street to the Bedbug Tavern and heard the strains of a trumpet, playing Silvia's tune. I walked through lime green batwing doors and saw Hot Lips in the key light. He blew into his trumpet with his eyes closed and his head thrown back, while the bass player slapped and fingered the long neck of a string bass and the drummer lightly brushed his snare drum and pedaled his high hat.  
  
The place really was a dive but the lights were so low, only someone who knew the place as well as I did would have noticed the scuffed table tops, the mismatched chairs and the beetles that scurried up the walls from time to time. Customers packed the smoke-filled little tavern while the bar help squeezed through the tiny spaces between tables to get drinks to the thirsty patrons. The postage stamp of a dance floor amazingly held ten couples slow dancing to the throbbing horn solo. They weren't going anywhere and were in no hurry to get there either, comfortable just to be swaying crotch to crotch in rhythmic gridlock.  
  
When the last chords of the song faded, there were moans, cheers and whistles from the audience. Then the house lights went on. Hot Lips set down his horn, wiped his sweaty forehead with a red bandana, exchanged a few words with the bassist and drummer, then stepped over to the bar. I eased past the dancers and bar boys with drink-laden trays and stood next to the trumpeter who took a shot of bourbon from the busy barmaid. He turned to look at who was standing so close to him and got a strange look on his face when he saw it was me.  
  
"What was that look for, Lips" I asked him. I couldn't quite place his reaction.  
  
"Nothing," he said and shrugged. "Hey, Freak. It's been a while."  
  
"It has, at that. You lost a little hair since the last time I saw you, but you haven't lost your lip."  
  
"Not on your life. I hear it around you've been writing new music."  
  
"Some."  
  
"I see you brought your axe along," he nodded when he saw my sax case.  
  
"Been taking good care of her?"  
  
"Always."  
  
McCoy seemed hesitant about something.  
  
"What's the matter, Lips?" I asked him. "I'd like to sit in with you."  
  
"I'd like to hear some of your new stuff." McCoy trailed off.  
  
I was a little taken aback. I hadn't expected to have to ask him for an invitation and began to feel uneasy.  
  
"There's a rumor going round about you," he said. He swallowed his whiskey with one gulp and winced.  
  
I got a sick feeling and my brain raced when I heard that. Were people saying I'd lost my lip? Was there some talk about my affair with Nick? Or was it just Skip Walker again?  
  
"What's the rumor?" I said grimly, determined to meet the bad news head-on.  
  
"I heard Skip Walker played 'Silvia's Tune' so bad you blew him to kingdom come. When I saw you just now, I was afraid I might be next," he said but he didn't really seem afraid.  
  
I breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Hey, I didn't do it, Lips. It's true he steamer-wrecked the song but I didn't blow him away."  
  
"Do you swear it, Freak?" he said looking at me carefully as I responded.  
  
"On my mother's grave," I said.  
  
McCoy breathed a sigh of his own that wasn't quite relief but some other emotion I couldn't place.  
  
"And you liked the way we played your song?"  
  
"It was real pretty," I said. "You should know by now I love your playing."  
  
"Glad you liked it," he said. "So you want to join us for the next set?"  
  
"More than anything."  
  
"You're getting quite a reputation." His words seemed to have hidden meanings that I couldn't decipher so I took them at face value, shrugged in response, ordered a shot of whiskey and knocked it back in one swallow. Booze at the Bedbug didn't exactly encourage sipping behavior. It was worse than the swill at the White Cat.  
  
When the break was over, Lips introduced me to Paul, his bass player, to Chris on drums and we wailed on some old-time classics. We played 'New Kansas City Blues', 'Sand in my shoes', and 'My Honey Works in a Donut Shop' and spent so much time jamming and improvising that those three songs took up almost half the set. The audience didn't seem to mind, and eventually got into the groove with us. I think sometimes that fans get way too used to hearing the same song played the same way every time. They don't even realize they're not hearing something fresh. We shook those songs up and played them upside down, inside out and sideways.  
  
That was one of the things that was so great about playing with Hot Lips. He was a virtuoso but not a prima donna. His selflessness in music reminded me of Lenny. I once asked him what he did to make it sound so fresh. And he said, "Freak, you got to get your ego out of the way and let the song play itself through you. You've got to be hollow like your horn and let the power flow through. Just like your horn is an instrument, so are you. You've got to open yourself."  
  
He told me that years ago when I was much younger before my mother died and I didn't know what he meant back then. I get it now, but words can hardly convey that feeling I get when the song comes to life and plays itself through me but even if I can't explain it, I feel it every time. Empty but full at the same time, like when I'm making love with Nick. I closed my eyes and let the music flow.  
  
The shimmering percussion of the drummer, the deep dark velvet notes plucked by the bass player, the sonorous melancholy of McCoy's trumpet, and the lonely longing poured forth from Silvia's golden throat, twisted and curved into arabesques of sound. It felt so good to play that way that I didn't want to stop, but did when the drummer finally put his hand on the cymbal to stop the last vibration.  
  
And when we did the audience got up on their feet for us and pulped their hands. It was glorious.  
  
I didn't feel much need to drink, but I had a couple more belts of bourbon over the course of the rest of the night. When the house lights came on for good at the end of the last set, I finally snapped out of my blissed- out musical trance. I shook hands with the bassist and drummer. I gave Hot Lips a hug. He hugged me back and held on a while, then whispered in my ear, "You play real good, Midvalley. You'd make your mother proud."  
  
I couldn't help tearing up when he said that because that's one of the big regrets of my life, that my mother never got to hear the song I wrote for her. While I waited for my emotions to calm down, I busied myself by packing Silvia carefully into her case. McCoy put his trumpet to bed at the same time. I glanced over at McCoy's trumpet case when I was through fastening Silvia's case clips. I recognized a decal on his case that had been there for years. As a kid I'd always been fascinated by it. It was a picture of an open mouth in profile poised to blow on the mouthpiece of a horn. It was pretty clear from large feathery wings that flanked the face that the mouth belonged to an angel.  
  
"What's that picture, Lips? I've always wondered about it. I don't know much scripture, but I know they say that Gabriel blew a horn."  
  
"Yeah, that's Gabriel, the mouth of Gabriel the Archangel. You know about it?"  
  
" I don't think so. What about 'it'?"  
  
"Nothing." I just thought you'd know, being the kind of horn player you are."  
  
"What kind is that?"  
  
"Talented."  
  
"Lots of players are talented," I said.  
  
"Yeah, but there's talent and 'talent' if you know what I mean?"  
  
"Oh?" I said without a glimmer of comprehension until I grasped that he might be talking about psionic talent.  
  
"I know you don't use Silvia just to make beautiful music. I saw the pictures of the guards at Burns' house in the Daily Dish with the blood coming out of their ears and eyes and nose and mouth. I know how they got that way."  
  
"So?"  
  
"You're not the only 'talented' horn player on the planet. I thought you'd be interested to know that."  
  
"You've seen others?"  
  
"A few," he said.  
  
"What's that got to do with Gabriel the Archangel?" I asked him with my brow furrowed.  
  
"Maybe we'll talk about it later," he said. "I just thought you already knew."  
  
I looked closely at him. Looked him in the eyes. And the intelligence I saw in them was almost as shrewd and calculating as that of Legato Bluesummers. And it dawned on me, McCoy was 'talented' too. And he was telling me there were more like me, more like him. The first thing that occurred to me was that Master Knives' should be informed at once.  
  
The second thing that occurred to me was that after I shared that tidbit of information with Master Knives, it wouldn't change a thing for me. I was still on vacation. I was still going to set up a studio and record some of the new songs. I was still going on tour--and as soon as it was humanly possible, I was going to get back together with Nick. I swallowed hard when I visualized all the things we would do when we did. I stopped the daydream when I felt McCoy's eyes appraising me.  
  
"That kind of talent has its uses," I said. "It's how I killed the man who murdered my mother, but I don't feel the need for it at the moment, McCoy. I'm setting up a recording studio this week somewhere in town and I'm looking for some great musicians to back me up on a new mini album. With the equipment and musicians in place, you could record one of your own. I made a lot of money from 'Hornfreak Gold'. I would have made a lot more if I'd had my own studio. If the mini album hits big, the double dollars will roll in. You want in on it? You'll get royalties and the opportunity to record your own stuff. I'd love to have you aboard."  
  
Lips gave me a big smile.  
  
"Sure," he said.  
  
"You want to go on tour with the Midvalley Seven?"  
  
"Sure," he said with another big smile.  
  
"You sure are agreeable tonight."  
  
"I sure am."  
  
"Come back with me to the May Queen?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
It was a little after midnight when McCoy said his farewells to the proprietor of the Bedbug, followed me out of the swinging doors and we headed down the street together to the May Queen. 


	24. Flirting with Disaster

Flirting with Disaster  
  
It was just around midnight when we walked through the doors of the May Queen Club. All of the band members were there including Dave and Lenny who had their arms draped over each other's shoulders. It gave me a bittersweet feeling to see their affection. It reminded me of how much I missed the casual intimacy I shared with Nick. After less than 24 hours apart, I already ached for him.  
  
I sighed, shrugged off the thought and greeted them all. They couldn't help noticing the legend standing beside me. I would have given Hot Lips McCoy a formal introduction, but except for Toby, who is bashful, everyone else was already stepping up to reclaim acquaintance and talking over old times. Dixie, Lenny and Sunny had all had the privilege of backing him up or sharing the bill with him on gigs. I was surprised that Jason and Randy, relative novices in the music business, already seemed to know him also. Finally Toby screwed up the courage to say hello. McCoy blew him away with charm. He knew who Toby was, had heard him play, was aware of how good he was and said so. The shy bass player bloomed under the compliment and sat back down, but not until he'd let McCoy know what a fan he was.  
  
The manager came over and took our drink orders himself. He was delighted to see I'd brought McCoy back with me.  
  
When he brought back the drinks, he asked McCoy if he might consider playing a gig or two. Hot Lips had no objections and agreed to talk dates and times in a few days. I asked Fleming if he'd mind if we set up our equipment and have a jam session.  
  
"Stay here all night if you want to. My two favorite horn players of all time jamming in my club? Hell, I'm honored."  
  
Jason parked the van in back of the club and he and Randy and Dave moved in all the equipment. Dixie asked Fleming, "Mind if I try out your piano? I heard it's a good one."  
  
"Help yourself. I just had it tuned a couple of weeks ago."  
  
Dixie pounded out about ten bars of a low-down cat-house boogie-woogie, then switched to some classical arpeggios and raked her bunched fingers in a sweeping glissando over all the white keys from left to right and then back again.  
  
"It's a nice one all right," she pronounced.  
  
It must have been, because she's picky as hell about the way the music sounds. We tuned up and played all night. No one wanted to be the first to break the spell. Right around seven in the morning, I realized that I had an appointment to look at real estate in just an hour, so I was the first one to quit.  
  
I made a date to meet them all later in the day.  
  
I walked back to the hotel, cleaned up, grabbed a quick cup of coffee and headed over to the real estate office to meet the agent. I must have looked at a dozen properties. I wanted a house with a sizable outbuilding to serve as the studio. For location I preferred a respectable middle- class area, with a fairly low crime rate. Since the sound equipment I planned to buy was so expensive, I worried about theft. I also wanted to be within walking distance of the clubs I'd be playing. I finally found an ideal spot.  
  
It was a modest but very nice two bedroom house that belonged to a couple who had owned a tomas stable that they eventually converted into a jeep repair shop. The shop was a barn of a place and had ample room for a large studio. But oddly enough the thing that really sold me on the property was that of all the houses I looked at it was the only one that I could see myself living together with Nick in. And I could see him in it, had an intuition about the place where he would store his cross punisher and hang his suit.  
  
"I'll take it," I said to the agent and made an arrangement to sign the paperwork later that afternoon. It was noon and fatigue was catching up with me, but there were so many things I felt the need to put in motion right away. I was a little perturbed by Legato's intimation that I might have to cut my tour short and I wanted to make the most of the time I had.  
  
Whether I was on vacation or not, I still took my responsibilities to Master Knives with the utmost seriousness. Over another much-needed cup of coffee at the hotel café, I wrote him a letter to informing him of what McCoy had told me about the existence of other musical psionic talents. I sealed the envelope and placed it in another larger envelope and addressed it to the academy with a special line that read. Attention: MKMEO which indicated an eyes only message for Master Knives. I also wrote to Chapel the Evergreen and asked him to forward my new address to Nick and to let me know how to get in touch with him for consultations.  
  
After I posted the letters, I went back to the real estate office, signed the papers, wrote a check for fifty thousand double dollars and the place was mine.  
  
I stopped off at a furniture store and purchased some comfortable couches, easy chairs, a table and chairs for the kitchen. I also bought a king-size bed that had me fantasizing about the activities that would take place there, one of which was sleeping. I was beginning to feel almost giddy with fatigue from lack of sleep. After I arranged for delivery the following day, I went back to the hotel to meet with Lenny. It was time to buy the recording equipment.  
  
The whole band came along with me to Monk's Music. The basic systems were $$150,000.  
  
"Take it or leave it," said Monk.  
  
"Hey, I didn't plan on haggling. I'll take it."  
  
"That's just so nice to hear for a change, Hornfreak. You have no idea."  
  
Monk was in the mood to be pleasant and disposed to be generous in the areas where he could, so in exchange for autographs, free tickets, the promise of backstage passes and out of sheer good will, he threw in a lot of freebies. He gave me extra cords and cabling, power packs, and speakers and microphone stands. But I still needed sound proofing and spent a fair amount on acoustic foam insulation and adhesive for it. The other big expense was for disks and for the machine that could manufacture copies in mass quantities from the master recording. We planned to sell the disks at our gigs. By the time my buying spree was over despite the freebies, I ended up spending about $$220,000. Monk was so delighted by the sale that he threw in free strings for the entire band, a couple of boxes of reeds for Silvia and a jar of horn polish.  
  
He agreed to deliver the equipment that very day. With most of the essential work that would forward setting up the studio done for the moment, I cast about in my mind thinking of what to do next. I must have blanked out mentally. There was not an image I can recall or a thought in my head until finally I felt tugging on my arm and saw Dixie looking up at me trying to get my attention and finally heard her saying my name.  
  
".valley, Midvalley, hey, wake up Midvalley," she said.  
  
"What?" I responded.  
  
She looked a little irritated and concerned at the same time.  
  
"I've never seen a person die from lack of sleep, and I don't want you to be the first but you already look dead on your feet. I'm taking you back to the hotel and putting you to bed."  
  
I was so brain-dead I couldn't come back with any banter, so I just stood there with my mouth hanging open until she took me by the sleeve and started me moving.  
  
"Randy," she said to the guitarist, "You and the rest of the guys go over to his house and get busy setting things up. She fished in my pocket tossed the key ring for it to her boyfriend.  
  
"But." I started a feeble protest.  
  
"Oh, shut up, Midvalley," she said and I did.  
  
I'm still a little sketchy on the details of how I got back to the hotel. I remember a cab and the hotel elevator. When I woke up, it was dark outside. I found I was lying on the bed with my shoes and jacket off and a light blanket thrown over me. I had no idea what time it was.  
  
I went into the bathroom, caught the reflection of my pale face in the mirror, and wondered again what Nick saw in me, but with the memory of his affection fresh in my mind, warmth of the recollection suffused me. With that feeling, I washed, shaved, dressed and with the desire to play some music, I put a new reed that I had primed and broken in a bit into Silvia's mouthpiece and left my room.  
  
I knocked on the doors of the suite that my friends had taken, but assumed they were out when I got no response. The lobby clock showed the time as ten thirty.  
  
I walked over to the May Queen to check out the action and found the place was packed for a Monday night. Fleming must have passed the word that Hot Lips McCoy and the Midvalley Seven would be rehearsing for their weekend gig. Hot Lips, Lenny, Dixie, Sunny, and Toby were holding the place spellbound. I don't get a chance just to listen to music that much, but I loved hearing what they did with some of the McCoy trumpet standards. The club patrons seemed to know good music when they heard it.  
  
My stomach was grumbling badly, so when the cute brunette waitress came to take my order, I asked for an Irish coffee and the special.  
  
"Hey, it's Mr. Midvalley," she said, "We're out of the special and just about everything else. How about a salmon sandwich? I remember you liked that the last time."  
  
"Oh, so you remember me from last time," I said, flirting a bit.  
  
"Who could forget the table with the three gorgeous guys at it. I never saw blue hair on a guy before, but he sure makes a case for it, and your priest friend was just so darned cute, we all just wanted to squeeze his cheeks. We girls all felt kind of put out when you didn't seem to notice us. I'm embarrassed to say we made bets about whether you three were gay or not.  
  
"Did anyone win?"  
  
"Well, I have to say," she said as she leaned over showing me some cleavage, "that the bet is pending. We're still looking for evidence. I was hoping you might help me win it. If you did, I would be very, very grateful," she said with a smile, "But we think that the blue-haired guy has a case on you."  
  
"What makes you think so?"  
  
"You should have seen the way he looked at you. Not exactly drooling. He looks like he has way too much class for that. Still I've seen and had the look enough times myself to recognize it. Kind of like this," she said and she looked me in the eyes with open invitation and let me see the slightest glimpse of the pink moist tip of her tongue. She was a sexy little thing. I have to admit that my groin twitched at the sight.  
  
Just then another waitress, called, "Hey, wake up, Lisa, I said 'Order up'," and Lisa left me on the double. I was relieved when she did. My reaction to her provocative behavior upset me and I opened my link to Nick as wide as I could to see if I could pick up a trace of him. I was certain that just touching his mind would ease my feelings of temptation and guilt.  
  
But I didn't reach Nick through the link. It was Legato who responded to my call in the empty void of the psychic plane. I felt his presence vivid as life and shock as the image and feel of his pink tongue lapping my sex flooded my senses and I heard his voice drip honeyed laughter, "It looks about ready to explode in my mouth."  
  
I felt intense pleasure as the phantom tongue licked me and anger at the violation. I didn't want it, but I wanted it. Nick! I wanted Nick, not this.ah-h. So hot. I wanted to run, I wanted to rut.  
  
"It's not real," I whispered. "This isn't happening."  
  
The music of Hot Lips' solo was not as real as the feeling in my groin.  
  
I stood up and held onto to the table to support myself with shaking hands but found my strength draining away. My legs buckled under me and the last thing I remember was the impact of my body hitting the floor, the feel of carpet under my cheek and then I knew no more.  
  
I was drifting like a cloud across a moon, so light, my atoms held together by the thinnest of ties. I was fading, fading like the notes of a song sung low. It was a sweet sensation to stretch so far. The pain of living dissolved as the bonds that held me on this plane loosened. Gravity had no claim on me. I was too light to fall.  
  
Whispers like the wind, curled like a lover's kiss in my ear.  
  
"Just take a little. A little at a time, master.  
  
Not so much. Not so fast.  
  
A little today. A little tomorrow.  
  
That's right.  
  
Now there's color in your cheeks.  
  
That's all. No more."  
  
Another voice in anger raised,  
  
"You presume to tell me no more?  
  
I should suck his life away.  
  
I should drain him dry as my kind has been drained."  
  
"He can hear us, master.  
  
If he remembers, he won't open the link again."  
  
"Then make him forget, you yellow-eyed abortion.  
  
We'll leave some juice in your beloved spider."  
  
"Yes, master."  
  
"You should see the smile on your freakish face."  
  
"I'm pleased you're feeling better, master"  
  
"You make me sick".  
  
"Yes, master."  
  
The voices and my memory fade.The one so familiar like words to song I should recall. I drift, a mote, tossed aloft above a sea of sand. The wind blows, whirls and swirls a vortex. I take on weight as I am pulled into its path. The whirlpool, strong as the hand of God, sucks me down, the further down I sink, the heavier I get until there is sand in my eyes and my nose and my throat, in my ears, in my mouth,. I breathe sand and drink sand, the weight on my lungs so heavy and the muffled voice says, "Dust thou art. Dust thou art. Dust thou art." My coffin slides into the ground and I feel the tears of my weeping lover.  
  
I woke to the feel of a wet cloth on my forehead and found myself lying on my back looking up at the crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling of the club. Hot Lips McCoy knelt beside me, concern written on his face.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick," I said.  
  
"Try to hold on until we get to the rest room," said McCoy.  
  
He helped me up and half-carried me, I felt on the verge of fainting again, my vision dim as patrons watched me stagger by and some laughed and another whispered, "Boy, is that guy drunk!"  
  
In the bathroom stall on my knees, I heaved the contents of my stomach into the bowl. The strong contractions continued though I brought up nothing. My head felt like it was being split open by a vise.  
  
"Hang on, son. Don't let go," I heard a voice say. It was Hot Lips. He put his hand on the back of my neck and I slumped against his legs.  
  
When I regained consciousness, I was lying with my head cradled in his lap. One of his hands supported my neck, the other rested on my forehead. His eyes were closed as if he were meditating.  
  
I sighed.  
  
McCoy opened his eyes and looked at me.  
  
"Are you feeling better," he asked.  
  
"Some," I said.  
  
The headache and nausea were gone at least.  
  
"Can you stand?" he asked me.  
  
"I think so."  
  
He helped me up.  
  
I swayed a little. He lent his support until my legs felt solid under me. I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. I had never seen it so white.  
  
"You gonna be okay, Hornfreak? You gave me quite a scare," said McCoy.  
  
"I'm okay," I responded and moved through the door, down the hall and back to my table. I sat down and McCoy took the chair beside me.  
  
"Try to eat something," he said. "It will help you get your strength back."  
  
I felt that I could eat so I took a bite of the sandwich the waitress had brought.  
  
The band was on a break. Soon they were clustered round the table asking if I was all right. Dixie saw I couldn't answer very well, so she shooed them all away, saying, "Give the man some peace. He'll be fine. Let him get a little air."  
  
She came back to tell me, "Midvalley, you've got to stop burning the candle at both ends. I mean it. Now finish that sandwich and drink some water."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," I said meekly.  
  
I finished my sandwich and drank some water.  
  
When the band finished the break, I felt like I wanted to join them and said so to Hot Lips.  
  
"Best thing for you, Hornfreak," he said, "but play sitting down for a while until you're feeling better. You wouldn't want to faint on stage and damage all those instruments if you come crashing down."  
  
The thought of Silvia dented and damaged was a sobering one so I did as McCoy suggested.  
  
The first song we played was the melancholy blues number, "How Could You Do Me So Wrong." The title of the song and my quickness to flirt with the waitress reminded me of how easily I could fall into my old habits of seduction. She had said something about Legato that struck me at the time, but I couldn't recall it for the life of me. The last person I wanted to think of was Legato, well maybe not the last. My thoughts lingered on the man for a moment. It was exasperating the way unwanted images of him seemed to invade my mind.  
  
What I really wanted was to keep the memory of Nick fresh in my heart, because nothing in my life made me happier than his love for me. I wasn't going to risk the chance of losing it by flirting the way I used to with anyone who had a nice ass and a sexy smile. I'd traveled that route and seen where it lead the time I stumbled in on Nick kissing Dave the Roadie. The crushing sense of loss was almost the equal of what I felt the day I found my mother's murdered body.  
  
I began to think that the only way to keep myself from slipping was to hold the thought of Nick in my mind. I asked the band if we could practice a little on my new song.  
  
"What?" asked Dixie, looking up from the keyboard, "You're finally done with it?"  
  
"More or less."  
  
I opened my sax case, and put the finished score on her sheet music stand.  
  
"Bring on the new music," said Lenny as he tossed off a drum roll and a rimshot.  
  
I played the intro with soft breathy sax notes that evoked the sighing of wind on a summer night. The audience liked the solo and the dance floor soon held couples moving to the romantic strains of the melody. Dixie joined me and the two of us played through the piece a couple of times. McCoy and the rest of the band held back, putting their creative talent into seeing how their particular instrument might mesh with this collection of notes.  
  
Toby was the first to see how he'd fit in a bass line and slid in beside me on the third go round. Sunny with his amped up classical guitar joined in next. McCoy caught my eye, nodded and I backed out and listened to the soaring solo on his golden horn that made me realize new possibilities hidden in my own song. Finally, Lenny who'd been searching for a rhythm to give the structure just enough tension to hold it together and the rest of us maximum freedom to improvise, joined in with me. For the space of two more verses, we were content to explore the possibilities of the song, a teasing foreplay.  
  
Then Dixie sang.  
  
"When the sky turns dark, And fireflies start to spark, And I feel myself sliding into love. Inside your warm embrace, How my heart begins to race. At the tenderness I feel in your kiss.  
  
Though you may travel far away, Yet in my heart you'll stay. These feelings I will cherish all my days. Till you come back to stay. To remind me I will play this serenade."  
  
The band improvised again for the longest time, then Dixie sang the second verse.  
  
"With the suns' first light, Imagine my delight, When I find you lying close to me so warm. This passion that I feel, How it makes my senses reel, Lying lost in love In your arms.  
  
Though you may travel far away, Yet in my heart you'll stay, A feeling I will cherish all my days. Till you come back to stay, To remind me I will sing this serenade."  
  
I don't know how long we jammed on the song, but when it finally played itself out, the crowd showed its appreciation. After making the music, I felt much better about everything. We sat down for another break afterwards.  
  
The waitress Lisa, came by to see if I wanted anything else. I didn't respond to the obvious innuendo and ordered another sandwich. She brought it back quickly, smiled at me and said, "That was a really pretty song. No hard feelings?"  
  
"Thanks for the sandwich," I said. She left to wait on another table.  
  
I listened to the talk of my friends and found out that Dixie had put Randy, Jason and Dave in charge of putting up the sound insulation and setting up the recording equipment. I was a little nervous about this at first, but found out from McCoy, that the two had experience working with the old technology. They musicians had spent time as go-fer/interns at a satellite studio in Augusta when McCoy was recording some of his biggest hits, and that's where he'd met them.  
  
Lenny suggested some of the itinerary and dates of the tour that he'd been considering. The plan was to hit the five biggest cities first and then a number of the good sized towns. Hot Lips broke in with a few suggestions. He agreed with the basic plan, but had so much tour experience that we gladly took advantage of his hard-won knowledge and used all of his additional advice.  
  
Even if headquarters recalled me after a month on tour, we would at least have hit the biggest population centers where we had the best chance of making some extra money. We were going to start recording sessions the next day if possible, get the mini album finished by the end of the week, and then start manufacturing copies from the master disc.  
  
"That reminds me," I said to Lenny. "We should get some cover art for the disk case. They always seem to sell better."  
  
"And liner notes," said the drummer. "But first we need to come up with a song list. Obviously you want to have your new songs on it. With just a little more rehearsal, I think we're there."  
  
After a little more talk about the possible lists of songs, we went back to rehearsing. Around 2 AM all but the most devoted fans left the place to get some sleep before their work day started. I was just getting my second wind, but with the rest of the band stifling yawns, we agreed to call it quits for the night.  
  
They packed up and headed back to the hotel.  
  
As for me, refreshed from the sleep I'd gotten earlier, I decided to head over to my place and see what progress Randy, Dave and Jason had made with the studio. It was hard to believe that I had felt so ill just a few hours before.  
  
I walked through the door and found the place transformed from the way I'd seen it that morning. The sound insulation on the walls made the former stable cave-like. Randy stood behind a blinking panel of instruments and adjusted levers on it as Dave greeted me.  
  
"Oh, hey, Midvalley," said Dave, "how do you like the set-up?"  
  
It wasn't the first studio I'd ever been in, but it was the first that was mine. A thrill ran through me, the pride of ownership.  
  
"I like it a lot. You guys have done wonders."  
  
"We were just about to try out the recording system. Why don't you be the first to play something since it's your studio."  
  
I stepped up to a microphone, adjusted the height and sound-checked with Randy. He gave me a thumb's up from behind the glassed in wall of the shop's business office which served as a booth. In memory of my mother, I played "Silvia's Tune".  
  
I went in with the three of them to hear the playback afterwards. Monk hadn't lied about the quality of the system. It was excellent.  
  
Randy handed the trial master disk to Jason who put it in the duplicating machine with the recordable blank disk, pressed some buttons on the bank of instruments and then leaned back in his chair. "Won't be long now."  
  
In less than a minute, after some brief clicks and whirs, Jason pulled out the copy disk, placed it in a portable player, turned on the power and I heard the song I had just recorded. The sound quality was superb. The system was worth every double dollar I had paid for it.  
  
After another excited half hour of exploring the sound mixing and hashing out some tentative plans for the next day, we all seemed to run out of steam at the same time and headed back to the hotel for some sleep.  
  
My furniture was supposed to be delivered around ten in the morning. I was up, dressed, and had breakfasted by eight o'clock.. I checked in at the hotel desk to see if I had messages, but there were none. I walked over to the post office, to give them my new address and then realized I needed bedding, towels and some other items for the house. It didn't take long to buy the things I needed and to arrange for their delivery later that day. If all went well, I would check out of the hotel and sleep in my new house that night. I was pleased by the thought.  
  
The furniture, linens and lamps arrived on schedule. I took some time to make the bed and found myself smiling when I thought of waking up in it with Nick lying beside me. My heart opened, I closed my eyes and I felt for him over the miles through my link. After a moment, I got a faint sense of him. I picked up the vaguest fluttering of anxiety, concentration, a coolness, and then complete cold. I backed out of the link. He was killing someone, I know. I recognized the sensations. It was an execution and I didn't want to distract him, so I went back to work putting thick towels and washcloths in the bathroom and installing a few lamps.  
  
When I finished, I looked around at my surroundings. The house was quiet and peaceful, the chairs and sofas inviting. The place looked like a home. I felt a sense of peace mixed with just a little sadness when the memory of the home my mother made for me crossed my mind.  
  
I sat down in one of the easy chairs, took Silvia in my lap, put my lips on the reed, closed my eyes and played Nick's song. I felt his presence strongly as I did. I only stopped when Lenny, Dixie and McCoy arrived with the rest of the band in tow and dragged me out to the studio for our first recording session. I didn't have to make any decisions about what to do. Lenny and Dixie had already worked out song lists. They were very much in accord with the way I thought about music and very pragmatic about it, having spent a lot more time on the road than I ever did. I was pleased to step back and let them handle the business end of things for a change, It was a pleasure just to settle back , play Silvia and enjoy my vacation.  
  
Dave went out on a sandwich run when our stomachs started grumbling. When he came back, we all took a break. While the rest of the band broke up into small groups, some relaxing, some still working, mixing tracks, Hot Lips came over to sit beside me.  
  
"I think the recording is going well. Very smooth. It's not always this painless, but this is band has a lot of talent. I remember playing some just awful gigs. I played with Skip Walker once."  
  
"Once is enough," I said.  
  
"True enough."  
  
"It's kind of been bothering me, Hot Lips, I can't figure out who started the rumor about me blowing Walker away. I hate to think it was Randy or Jason."  
  
"I heard it from Skip Walker's roadie," said McCoy.  
  
I searched my memory and the image of the man carrying Walker's drumset so awkwardly came to me. Shrewd dark eyes in a bland face, a sparse moustache.  
  
"Well, I'll be," I said.  
  
"You've got to keep your eyes on the supporting players," McCoy said softly. "Things aren't always what they seem."  
  
His eyes scanned the room and considered all the members of the band. Just what was he trying to tell me? I wondered.  
  
McCoy took a bite of his poor boy sandwich , chewed, swallowed and asked, " Have you heard back from Master Knives yet?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"I guess not. I forgot you have to play dumb. We'll talk about things later. Be sure to check your mail again soon."  
  
He got up and walked away while my mind grappled with what he had intimated to me. How in hell did he know I'd written Knives? Was McCoy working for Knives? And if so, for how long? I'd known McCoy for ages but never seen him around the academy. For God's sake, he was an old man, did Knives recruit operatives that old? He was old enough to be my father I thought with a dismissive shrug, but then so were Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen.  
  
I would never have guessed that Hot Lips knew Master Knives Millions. Feeling unsettled by McCoy's question, I told Lenny I was going into town on a quick errand.  
  
"Take the van," he said and tossed me the keys.  
  
Once outside, I revved the vehicle and headed straight for the post office. 


	25. Dead Letters

Dead Letters  
  
There was mail waiting for me at the post office, two packets from the academy. The first had Chapel the Evergreen's return address, with the information I'd requested about Nick's assignments. I scanned it quickly to find the list of dates and estimated times, but saw only a column of names and beside it another column that listed the requested action.  
  
The one thing that caught my attention immediately was that the second column had only the word execution repeated over fifty times. I'd never seen a list before that held only executions. It was the only action requested. I scanned the first column and saw there were women's names on the list, as well, but where were the dates and locations? Without that how in hell was I supposed to get in touch with Nick? I flipped the page in exasperation and saw that on the back of the page the list continued, with the only action requested, execution. I reopened the envelope looking impatiently for a letter of explanation from Chapel the Evergreen and saw a half sheet of paper I'd missed the first time.  
  
It read,  
  
To Whom it May Concern:  
  
Due to a security breach, we are unable to process your request for dates and locations at this time.  
  
What the fuck was this all about? I felt a surge of anger and frustration. I had been hoping that I could compare the band's tour dates with the Nick's assignment list and arrange a rendezvous. Now that appeared to be out of the question.  
  
I stood engrossed in thought, tapping the envelope nervously while I thought of the ramifications for Nick. Executions only and women on the list. I'd never had to kill a woman before. The image of finding my mother's murdered body flashed through my head and I thought of how difficult it would be for me to harden myself to perform a deed like that. I remembered Nick's mother had been murdered too.  
  
Was I questioning Master Knives? Of course not. Still I felt queasy but reassured myself, "There must be a reason."  
  
The thought of Master Knives reminded me of my second envelope. I walked out to the van, got in and opened the letter in the driver's seat where I would have more privacy to read. Inside the envelope was a second envelope, marked MTHEO. I opened it, pulled out the letter and read. It was very short.  
  
Midvalley the Hornfreak,  
  
By now, you will have met with McCoy. He will act as your mentor and train you for a new long-term special assignment. Trust him as you would trust Legato Bluesummers.  
  
Knives Millions  
  
The letter was written and signed in Master Knives' distinctive scrawl.  
  
Well, that appeared to be that.  
  
I was beside myself with frustration and cast about in my mind trying to find a way around the security lock-down at headquarters. After ten minutes of staring out the window, I came up with nothing, sighed and drove back to the studio to see if McCoy had any ideas. It was a long shot.  
  
When I got back to the studio, the band was still on a break for lunch. I looked around for McCoy and saw him chatting with Dixie while Toby was off in a corner by himself, picking some bass runs on his instrument and the rest of the crew were clustered around Randy, Dave, and Jason in the sound booth. McCoy looked at me, and Dixie greeted me.  
  
"That was a fast trip," she said. "Did you get a letter from Chapel?"  
  
For a moment, her question threw me. I think it was because of her sitting with McCoy. Things were a little confused in my head because of the two letters I'd just read. I must have gotten an odd look on my face, until it dawned on me that she meant Nick, not Chapel the Evergreen.  
  
"No," I said.  
  
"Well, cheer up, Midvalley. I'm sure he'll write soon."  
  
I guess my mood must have shown on my face. I was a little downcast at the thought of not seeing Nick for two months and truth to tell, I was beginning to be worried about him. The work load he was taking on was ten times heavier than average. On the plus side, the executions represented a substantial amount of cash. I could only think of a very few assignments that paid better. Executions were lucrative. Nick had maybe 75. The lowest rate was $$2500. So figuring conservatively, in two months time my friend would have earned close to 190,000 double dollars. That had to be enough to pay off the debt.  
  
The thought of Nick with no money worries, well, it was one of the reasons I had favored breaking up the partnership temporarily. And then Legato had given me the impression that my getting together with Nick for consultations or other mission assistance would be no big deal. Now it appeared that things were not quite as they had been represented. Nick had taken on a dangerous work load, and my vacation was anything but. I was going to be back to working two jobs again and wondered how long Legato had known of the plans to groom me for a long-term assignment. Probably before I even returned to the academy.  
  
From the look of Nick's list of executions, it was clear to me that Nick was probably being groomed for something too. If it didn't get him killed him first.  
  
I had a lot on my mind and jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Lenny's.  
  
"Time for another round of recording," he said.  
  
I was glad for the interruption. My thoughts had grown increasingly dark with worry. Just the routine of taking Silvia from her case and placing her strap around my neck was comforting. The thoughts I had were about things I could not control. All I needed to control for now was my lips and my breath on the reed, my fingers on the keys and letting the music flow through me, hollow as my horn itself.  
  
The week was flying by. Dixie had an artist friend in town who drew a great picture of us when we were jamming at the May Queen club. The colors were brilliant. She captured the sweat on our foreheads, the smokiness of the room. McCoy in his pinstriped suit and me in my crushed velvet with the lights shining on our horns. We decided to use it for our mini-album cover. The title we finally picked was "Jamming at the May Queen--the Midvalley Seven with Kenny McCoy."  
  
I wrote the liner notes myself. Lenny lent me the van again and I brought the picture and the notes in to be copied at a printer's office in town. Lips McCoy came with me on the trip. I had been hoping he would.  
  
As the van rumbled down the road towards town, I said, "I got a letter from Master Knives. He told me you would be mentoring me and training me for a special assignment. What's the assignment?"  
  
"I don't know yet," said Hot Lips. "There is a network in place to relay information to Master Knives, and I need to show you how the network works and introduce you to the key players and contacts who provide the information and help it flow smoothly."  
  
"The Mouth of Gabriel?" I hazarded a guess.  
  
"That's right."  
  
"Have you ever seen a picture like the Gabriel picture before?"  
  
I blushed.  
  
"Why are you blushing, Hornfreak?"  
  
"Well, some of the graffiti in the toilets at the clubs I've played.well, I've seen the mouth poised to blow something, but the mouthpiece is a cock, not a trumpet," I finished with a snigger.  
  
McCoy smiled and said, "It may be hard to believe but you just started your first lesson. That isn't graffiti. It's information about the location of a meeting place Did you ever notice the placement of the picture in the stall?"  
  
I shrugged my shoulders, "No."  
  
"Facing the toilet is North, the door in back is South the right wall is east, the left wall is west. The chamber also serves as a clock, Straight ahead is 12 o'clock. Getting the picture?"  
  
"It seems pretty straightforward. I've seen the messages then already, but didn't know they were messages, right?"  
  
McCoy nodded and continued, "High on the stall means AM, low on the stall means PM. It's not fool-proof, but it's subtle and we have had great success with it. I'll tell you more about it later. Any more questions?"  
  
"Did you hear anything about a security breach at headquarters?"  
  
"I heard there was one, but that's all I heard."  
  
I hesitated. I wanted to ask him if he could use his network to find Nick, but if there was a security breach, I sure as hell didn't want to put my partner in danger, so I thought it was better to avoid the subject altogether.  
  
"I'd like to ask you a question, Midvalley."  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"Have you ever had those sick spells before?"  
  
I took time to consider the question then answered, "I got sick the first time I used Silvia to kill a man."  
  
"The one who murdered your mother?"  
  
I nodded, because I was speechless. How could he know so much about me?  
  
"Any other times you've felt weak or drained?"  
  
"Last week. I haven't been sleeping much."  
  
"Do you recall what you were doing before you got sick?"  
  
I searched my mind, trying to recall the morning of the picnic, but I came up blank. It was almost as if there was a hole in my memory.  
  
"I was drinking coffee, and I had a bad headache. Leonof was there and my friend, Chapel, and."  
  
"Legato Bluesummers, was he there as well?"  
  
"He and Chapel helped me up. Why?"  
  
"Could be nothing. You haven't been getting much sleep. Take better care of yourself, Midvalley, but if you have another of these episodes, I want you to let me know."  
  
He wasn't asking me, he was telling me.  
  
We got back to the studio and joined the band. We finished recording all the tracks we planned to use at 5 that evening. The playback sounded great. We were ready to start cranking out copies We popped the cork on a bottle of chilled champagne to celebrate and got happy toasting each other and the mini album.  
  
"Don't get too complacent," Lenny reminded us. "We still have a couple of gigs to play at the May Queen and rehearsals again tonight.  
  
Dave decided to stay back and continue making copies.  
  
"Thanks, Dave," I said. "Tomorrow we'll pick up the cover art and notes from the printer, and with just a little assembly work, we should be able to sell our first copies tomorrow night at the club."  
  
We picked up the finished print job the next morning and we all spent a few hours placing the cover art , liner notes and the disks in the mini album cases. It didn't take too long to produce a thousand of them.  
  
The music we made that weekend showed us off at the top of our form. We sold over 100 albums the first night and 150 the next at $$15 each. $$3750 for two nights alone and that didn't count the money we got paid for playing the gig. The mini album was going to make us some money, which was a good thing. I wanted to recoup my investment in the equipment and fatten my bank balance again.  
  
We were to start our road trip the following day. Although Dave was doing a great job copying the disks, he was invaluable as a roadie. He took over most of the driving duty and was a strong back to help with the chore of moving Dixie's piano into whatever club we were playing at. We needed to hire someone to keep producing the disks.  
  
Sunny's wife, Kima, a short pretty woman with lustrous black hair and laughing brown eyes volunteered to do the job. She picked up the skills with minimal training. It was agreed that we would wire her when we were running out and tell her where to send the next shipment for us to pick-up.  
  
We set out for a town called Felnarl. When we sold 300 copies of "Jamming at the May Queen," we knew we'd need more soon. We wired Kima and asked her to send 5000 disks for us to pick up in Augusta. It took us the rest of the week to get there and we ran out of disks two days before.  
  
All I can remember about the gig in Augusta was that the music was great, the crowds were enthusiastic and Hot Lips introduced me to a lot of contacts and informants from the Mouth of Gabriel.  
  
What I hated most about the trip was the dust from the road trip. Through the open windows of the van, dust seeped in. The slow persistent wind blew grit in my eyes, in my hair, even fine particles in my ears and nose. I crunched sand between my molars, blew sand from nostrils when I sneezed, poured sand from my shoes, found it in the pockets of my trousers and my jacket. The heat in the van would have been unbearable but for the open window.  
  
We had to drink water frequently. Dixie, with motherly concern, reminded us if we forgot. Her past experience with a bad bout of dehydration on a road trip made her vigilant for us. The amount we sweated playing a gig, it's just as well she hounded us.  
  
I had several more fainting spells, none quite as severe as the first two that I experienced and on Dixie's prompting, went to visit a doctor in New Junction. It cost me a $$1000 to find out that in the doctor's opinion there was nothing organically wrong with me.  
  
I reached out for Nick through my empathic link from time to time, when the loneliness and temptation grew too much for me to bear, but what I felt through the link was almost always grim determination and cool detachment. I missed him, missed his warmth. I hadn't had to deal with the propositions of sax groupies when he was around. But with the success of the tour and mini album there seemed to be more of them than ever.  
  
Most of the time I had no problem turning down their offers. In the heat of a concert or practicing alone on Silvia I could remember the tenderness of his lips and his passion for me and put those feelings into my playing. Perversely, though, the more emotion I put into my playing , the more admirers I got.  
  
We spent a week in the city of September. Lenny had used his music contacts with the satellite broadcasting system to publicize our tour. We played to sold-out crowds in fairly large auditoriums in day-time concerts on the weekend. Each evening, we were booked to play at a different night club. Benny's Hot Spot, Eve's Pair-o-dice, Jazzoline Alley, and The Night Bird. We sold mini-albums hand over fist, especially after the satellite broadcasts started to cover the tour and aired some tracks from the album.  
  
The trip to October took place in the midst of a sweltering heat wave. We had two flat tires on the way and I got so much sun helping with repairs, that I wound up with a pounding headache. Bad luck hounded us. An hour or so later, we encountered a sand storm that brought visibility to zero. The van finally limped into October City, six hours behind schedule but just in time for the gig, We went up on stage with the road dust still on us, but gave a great performance. The groupies afterward were insistent pestering me for autographs and personal contact, too personal.  
  
I can't even recall the name of the club we were at, but I remember going outside into the alley to get away from the eager hands and faces, to find some air and privacy. I wanted to link with Nick. I felt at that point that any contact would be better than nothing, but maybe because of the sunburn and the headache that persisted, I couldn't find the slightest trace of him. I don't remember fainting, but I came to hours later lying in a bed in a hotel, wondering vaguely how I got there, and feeling as sick as I have ever been in my life. When I tried to get out of bed, my legs wouldn't hold me. Hot Lips brought me some medication and somehow nursed me through it so I was ready to play the next evening.  
  
My bout of illness left me with a hollow feeling, but I was on top of the world while the music filled me when we played our gig that night. When the music ended and the fans closed in afterwards to claim their pound of flesh, I felt an emptiness that frightened me.  
  
I didn't have any more to drink than usual, but I guess because I had it on an empty stomach, it hit me harder and I got a little drunk. Just before the bar closed, Dixie and Randy slipped off to their hotel room. Dave and Lenny, I couldn't help seeing had started some hot and heavy foreplay when the club was nearly empty. I saw them tongue-sucking in a dark alcove of the club and was turned on by the sight and more than a little jealous and lonely.  
  
A bar boy who looked a little like Nick saw what I was staring at smiled at me. I don't know what came over me, but when he asked me to spend the night with him, I said yes.  
  
His name was Alan. He took me upstairs to his room and kissed me sweetly. He had a nice mouth, with a lower lip that looked sad like Nick's. He was nervous, I think, and put a disk in his portable player to relax and get him in the mood before we went on to anything more strenuous. He went in to use the bathroom. I was waiting for him to come back when the music began to play. The track was "Serenade" from Jamming at the May Queen. As Dixie's voice sang the words of my love song to Nick, I closed my eyes on tears.  
  
"What are you doing, Midvalley?" I whispered to myself.  
  
I got up and left the room. Under the light of the moons, I walked back to my hotel still lonely for Nick.  
  
I felt better when I woke up late next morning. I ran into Hot Lips over brunch in the hotel dining room and afterwards, we went to check the post and see if there was any information from headquarters. Hot Lips picked up an assignment packet, and shared the contents with me.  
  
"Master Knives wants us to locate a man. This fellow moves around a lot and it ought to be easy to find him--just follow the path of destruction, but there never seems to be any logic in the pattern. He's more erratic than a tomas in a patch of goonweed.  
  
"Vash the Stampede?" I hazarded a guess.  
  
"The one and only."  
  
"I've seen the poster but never laid eyes on the man."  
  
"No more have I, but if any one can find him, our intelligence network can."  
  
There was a fairly large cell of Mouth of Gabriel agents working in October. Hot Lips introduced me to them as the new district supervisor. Given my cue, I acted the part and asked what progress they had made on locating Vash the Stampede. They told me he had been sighted in Inepril City but dropped out of sight. A caravan group near Demislade Hot Springs, near the town of Fondrique had reported him in their area a couple of weeks ago, but there was no other current news. I told the agent-in- charge to forward an encoded interim report to me and that I would pick it up at the November post office.  
  
We played a few more gigs in October and headed for November late Sunday morning. McCoy and I met with the Mouth of Gabriel cell as soon as we could. We got a number of reports about the whereabouts of Vash the Stampede. The one that surprised me most was that he'd been seen in May City, of all places, in the company of two women. The coincidence astonished me. One of his traveling companions appeared to be a priest. The two men had taken part in a quick draw tournament. I immediately wondered if the priest was Nick and was more worried than I can say. I have personally never seen anyone with the equal of Nick's weapon skills, but Vash the Stampede had a bounty of $$60 billion on his head and caused more death and destruction than any man alive. The thought of Nick taking on a man like that curdled my blood. The only thing that eased my worries was that I hadn't seen the name of Vash the Stampede on my friend's list of executions.  
  
I'd seen pictures of the devastation the outlaw caused to the lost city of July, the thousands and thousands of men women and children left without food or water with the nearest town over 100 iles away. So many died of dehydration on the walk through the desert. I had passed through the Valley of the Dead with its thousand crosses on a bus trip to Augusta. The sight of the many small crosses marking the graves of children, chilled me to the marrow. The few who made it out of the desert alive told tales of greed, violence and cannibalism. The strong survived at the expense of the weak. I heard that some stayed alive by drinking the blood of the dying. It would have been kinder to kill them all outright than to drive them to acts of such desperation. The man was a monster. I'd be doing the planet a favor by helping to track him down. A sense of righteous anger grew in me and I started to feel proud about my new job.  
  
I'd had nightmares as a child after seeing the newspaper stories with the graphic pictures of the dried out corpses mummified by wind and sand. In one dream, my mother and I are alone in the desert. I get so weak that I can't walk. My mother picks me up and carries me until she can't anymore, then sets me down and tells me she'll be back when she finds water. All alone under the starry sky, I shiver from the cold. I would weep, but I have no tears left to shed.  
  
The ghosts come then. The ghosts of dead children. They know my name. "Come and play, Midvalley. It's nice here."  
  
They lie. I can see the bones beneath their skins. All they offer me is death and I want to live. I hear my mother's voice call, "Midvalley, I can't find you, come to me. I have water."  
  
I follow the voice and it leads me closer and closer, but as I walk a feeling of dread overtakes me. Heavy footsteps follow me. I start to run. The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder until they match the tempo of my pounding heart. I don't want to look behind me but I do and see him tall as a giant with the pitiless eyes of a demon, the tails of his red coat whipping in the wind. His hands close around my neck and I wake up screaming.  
  
The memory of the nightmare put me in a melancholy mood for the rest of the day. I've come to think over the years that the thing that bothered me most about the dream was that I never did find my mother.  
  
My only relief was in the music I played that night. For the space of the evening, I felt my burdens lift and went to bed with a sense of peace.  
  
But that night I dreamed.  
  
In the Valley of the Dead I walk. I can see no end to the crosses that extend to the horizon. The sun is at the zenith, burning my pale skin, sucking the moisture from my body. Slower and slower I walk. With every step, I feel another bit of strength leave me until finally my walk is a shuffle. Then in a slow slide that seems to last forever, I fall onto the sand and into oblivion. I wake to see the moons and stars above me and I hear the whispers of the night wind.  
  
"I don't want to die," I whisper back, but when my eyes close I hear them coming, the drinkers of blood. Their voices weigh my fate.  
  
"Here he is, so close to death. It would be a mercy to finish him off, don't you think? I am thirsty. Give me a drink," says a petulant voice.  
  
I feel tender lips on my neck and nearly swoon from the sensation.  
  
"Nick," I say.  
  
"Yes, that's where you were nicked," says a voice like honey. A ring of fire blooms around the scar that lines my throat and I feel warm fluid dripping. A mouth closes on my neck and begins to drink. My heart beats in fear and I struggle  
  
"It's only a little blood, Midvalley," the voice reassures me. I grow quiet as the lips suck and the tongue laps and when it stops, I look up and see two lovers kissing. One breaks the kiss and I see his face, like silver in the moonlight, my blood on his smiling lips. It is the face of Vash the Stampede. 


	26. The Light That Took Augusta

The Light that Took Augusta  
  
I never did make it to the city of December. Agents of The Mouth of Gabriel who were part of the caravan to Fondrique finally came up with a solid lead on Vash the Stampede. Some of the operatives near Fondrique managed to get access to a car he was driving, meddled with the mechanics and caused it to break down more than half-way to a town called Jeneora Rock.  
  
I was more than a little surprised when I received a wire from Legato instructing me to meet him there as soon as possible. Never one to drag my feet when it came to following orders from headquarters, I booked a ticket on the next sand steamer east, and said hurried good-byes to Lenny, Hot Lips and the rest of the band. Just before I left, McCoy pulled me aside, probably about some last minute Mouth of Gabriel business, I thought.  
  
"Midvalley," he said, "I know you're an empath. Be careful about using your link until you find out what's causing your illness," he said and gave me a hug. I waved good-bye and boarded the steamer a scant hour after I received the summons with my mind troubled as it grappled with the implications of his advice. But in the bustle of getting my ticket stamped and finding my berth, his words slipped my mind and I thought no more about it.  
  
It had taken nearly a month and a half to tour the cities from May City to November, but the trip from November to Augusta, nearly the same distance, took only a day and a half. There was no steamer to Jeneora Rock, but the bus I took arrived there in a little over six hours. It was not difficult to find Legato. Even without opening my link, I got a sense of the man because he broadcasted his aura so strongly and I headed towards a saloon carrying Silvia in her case in my left hand and a luggage duffle over my shoulder.  
  
The saloon was called the Blue Moon and when I came in Legato was registering for a room.  
  
"Ah, Midvalley," he said, looking up from signing the ledger, "I appreciate your promptness. I knew I could count on you."  
  
Legato looked different. His face was markedly thinner and he had made changes to the white coat he usually wore. A strange armature of spikes now jutted from the right shoulder pad and he had lashed a small skull to the sleeve that covered his left arm. I knitted my eyebrows when I saw the skull but said nothing. I assumed he would comment on the changes if and when he wanted to.  
  
"I've taken the liberty of booking us a room," he said with a small smile.  
  
Alarm bells went off in my head and I responded, "I wouldn't want to intrude on your privacy."  
  
"Rooms are in short supply at present and you know Master Knives prefers that we double up to cut expenses."  
  
What he said was, in general, true. I knew he sensed my discomfort and was aware of the reasons for it. If he had any doubts, had he wished, he could have entered my mind and forcibly read my thoughts. I was grateful that he didn't, not that he would have found anything that he didn't already suspect. I found the man's power unnerving, still I wasn't afraid to challenge him, so I said, "I believe the rule applies only to field agents, not to the higher echelon staff."  
  
"Well, Midvalley, it's not as if the rule book were sacred to you, now is it? The official policy of headquarters discourages long term affairs between agents because of loyalty concerns. You know my unofficial policy. I'm not against liaisons as long as they don't interfere with your duties. I begin to think that your close friendship with Chapel is making it difficult for you to prioritize. Are you that afraid I'll seduce you from your precious priest? I had no idea that your bond was so fragile."  
  
The bond I had with Nick was not fragile, but Legato had put his finger directly on my fear. He had attempted to influence me before. The way Legato put it made my concerns sound ridiculous though I knew they were not. Still, out of respect for the man, I yielded to his persuasion and carried my luggage to the room. I had assumed the room would have two beds, and was oddly reassured when I saw them on different ends of the room, not that that would pose any obstacle to intimacy. Intimacy? Shit! Why had the thought even crossed my mind?  
  
The only sure way to avoid Legato's influence was to play Silvia and I planned to use every opportunity to do so, I decided, and took her down with me to the saloon.  
  
Legato was sitting at the counter and asked me to join him. I took the seat beside him. I wasn't particularly hungry, so I ordered a coffee. Legato ordered a slice of cheesecake and coffee, and proceeded to talk business. His first subject was my health, a matter of concern for me the past month and a half.  
  
"You've lost weight, Midvalley and you don't look well. Agent McCoy reported that you were ill a number of times. I have been worried about you."  
  
"It hasn't seemed to have affected my ability to do the job."  
  
"True. McCoy also reported you've been quick to learn the ropes of the intelligence network and I understood that we owe it to your operatives that we finally got a fix on Vash the Stampede. I must confess I'm looking forward to seeing him again in the flesh."  
  
"So, you've met The Humanoid Typhoon. What are our orders? Execution?"  
  
"Execution would be too merciful for a man who has caused so much destruction, and yet."Legato's voice tapered off.  
  
"I'm inclined to agree with you. I passed through the Valley of the Dead on my way to Augusta on the tour. It reminded me again of why he is the most hated man on the planet."  
  
"The Valley of the Dead," said Legato with the faintest trace of bitterness. " Most of my family is buried there."he began to say and then broke off, only to start again, "He's quite the hypocrite, this Vash the Stampede, always preaching love and peace and yet.it was he who crippled Master Knives, firing upon him when he was unarmed. The bonds of family mean nothing to him."  
  
"What do you mean the bonds of family?"  
  
"I forget you've never actually met Master Knives. He and Vash the Stampede are brothers."  
  
I was more than a little surprised by this piece of information and by what Legato had volunteered about his family. He must have been about five years old when he lost them. I could not help feeling sympathy for the man. I know what it is to be a motherless child. My instinct was to offer him what comfort I could, but pulled back warily before I opened the link when I recalled McCoy's warning about using my empathic ability.  
  
Legato fell into a reverie and seemed to forget I was there. I took the opportunity to ask the bartender if there were any musicians booked in to play there. I was pleased to discover that a guitar player, Eddy "Fast Fingers" Wilson was playing a gig that day. I'd heard the name from Sunny, who'd told me the man could play a low-down blues.  
  
I asked the bartender if he'd mind if I played a little. He had no objection, so while Legato ate his cheesecake, I closed my eyes and grooved on Silvia and everything fell away. At some point, I heard the guitarist join in with me and follow the flow of Silvia's voice.  
  
I was vaguely conscious of a commotion on the street, but paid no heed to it and went deeper into my playing. I was completely aware when the rowdies entered the bar but chose to ignore them. Legato was more than capable of dealing with out-of-control troublemakers. One began to beat a woman who was with him. She had apparently been staring at Legato and her captor got jealous.  
  
"You listenin', Slick? You think you're too good for us?"  
  
The voice was addressing Legato. I would have pitied the fool had he not disgusted me so.  
  
I knew the tone and the attitude, the same kind of boasting swagger that the gang that raped me had. My thoughts grew dark and I kept on playing.  
  
"Punk, you're not paying attention," said the voice. A gunshot rang out.  
  
"A fork, please," said Legato. I wondered how much longer his patience would last. Gunshots peppered the wall around Legato and I took my lips off Silvia's mouthpiece. I was ready to assist Legato if he needed my help, but it soon became apparent that he had things well in hand, and I began to play again in concert with the agonized shrieks and yells of the gang.  
  
The rest of the story is pretty much common knowledge published in the local papers and picked up by the satellite. The gist was that agents of Master Knives annihilated the gang known as the Roderick thieves. Odd how the reporters always seemed to get the facts wrong.  
  
After Legato finished what the gang started in the saloon, I heard him speak to the women they had held captive.  
  
"The day it all ends is near. I advise you to make good use of the time you have left." His voice gave me cold chills.  
  
A little later, he gave one of the surviving gang members a message to deliver to the chief of the Roderick Thieves, to meet him before first sundown at the top of Jeneora Rock. I doubt the gang knew that the Gung- ho Guns were lying in wait for them.  
  
Just about everyone showed up except Chapel the Evergreen, Jake Berkis, Ben Evans and Nick. Nick was still out on his assignment. I didn't know why Chapel the Evergreen failed to show. The summons had been quite specific. All agents except those with special dispensations, Nick was one of these, were to come to the town of Jeneora Rock and wait for further instructions. But the Evergreen didn't show and I was a bit surprised by the absence of Ben Evans, especially since his mentor, Hoppered the Gauntlet was there.  
  
Because of the security leak at headquarters, the Evergreen had fallen under suspicion, a hard pill to swallow for a man who had been such a support to Master Knives over the years. I personally doubted the truth of the accusations, but it looked bad, and when he didn't show up at Jeneora Rock, it tended to confirm rumors that he had become unreliable.  
  
I didn't feel sorry for the Roderick Thieves. The paper reported that the entire gang was slaughtered. In truth half were spared, but slaughter was as good a description as any, mostly because of the overkill of E.G. Mine's spikes and the massive volume of fire from Grey Nine Lives. He shot no three round bursts, this time.  
  
The way I looked at things, the gang had it coming, but what the papers didn't know was that the shootout was peripheral to our attempt to apprehend Vash the Stampede.  
  
Each of the Gung-Ho Guns, myself included, was ready and eager to take him on. Several of us had good reason to hate him, but in the end it was Dominique who ended up facing him.and failing. I saw her return from the encounter with her demon's eye shattered. I took her final debriefing and with a queasy feeling, signed the order that would end her life.  
  
I have thought about it since then and wondered if her contempt for the male sex caused her to underestimate Vash the Stampede. I convinced myself at the time that that was the case, but the events that transpired in Augusta two weeks later, caused me to rethink the scenario.  
  
Legato invited me to travel with him to Augusta in his armored car. I accepted the offer, thinking as I did, that the man treated me differently than he did the rest of the Gung-ho Guns. I had been concerned at first when we shared the hotel room in Jeneora Rock that he might make sexual overtures, but nothing of the sort happened. We ended up sharing a room in Augusta as well, but Legato seemed so preoccupied with whatever was on his mind, we talked of nothing personal. We were both focussed on the mission.  
  
What can I say about the destruction of Augusta that hasn't been said before? It had been a beautiful city in so many ways. It used to be referred to as "The Rose that Bloomed in the Desert," because of its fine architecture and the many groves of trees and shrubs that grew there. The seed ship that had crashed in Augusta over a century and a half before had an unprecedented number of viable plant offshoots that survived the catastrophe and took root in Augusta.  
  
On the day that the architecture came crashing down and crushed the beautiful groves, I was watching the drama that led to the destruction from a hilltop that overlooked the city.  
  
Even before the disaster, I was feeling low and spent far more time thinking about Dominique than I wanted to. Yes, foul-mouthed, pushy, aggressive, bitchy Dominique dominated my thoughts. Sitting in the stall of the men's lavatory in the Hot Spot Saloon, I ended up with tears in my eyes when I recalled the time we had made love. She'd let down her defenses that night. I remembered how tough she came on, and then how vulnerable she had been about the bullet hole scar on her breast. Sweetness was not a word generally associated with Dominique, but she had been.  
  
She'd been dependable, trustworthy and hardworking and ended up executed. I had signed the order, but hadn't assigned the duty. Legato had let E. G. Mine draw straws with Zazie the Beast for the job. It made me sick to watch them so eager for the privilege laughing and joking about how they'd do her. Zazie had never forgiven her for dumping him from the bleachers on graduation day. E.G. Mine, who had kissed her for nearly a solid hour and slept with a picture of her near his bed, now was hot to kill her. Either he was a total mercenary or the sickest fuck I ever met in my life.  
  
Dominique dead and E.G. Mine alive. I didn't like where the train of thought was leading me. It was an article of faith with me that Master Knives had good reason for the decisions he made. Fairness wasn't an issue. We all knew the 100% success rate policy. You fail, you die. But still, her death bothered me.  
  
I felt the need for a woman's touch and ended up sitting with my arms around two beauties that afternoon while I waited with Legato for Vash the Stampede to show up.  
  
As I held the women, I thought about Dominique and my mother, two women dead from violence in our harsh world. The bartender put a platter in the juke box and the sound of my sax filled the room. The song was "Serenade" and as always when I played or heard it, it reminded me of Nick. With all the deaths I had witnessed the past two weeks and the way Legato had talked about the end of the world, I wondered if I would ever see my lover again.  
  
Vash the Stampede finally arrived a few days after we did. I was puzzled by his behavior. He spent a good deal of time, energy and ammunition threatening people with death and destruction, but harmed no one. For some reason, he wanted to evacuate the town. I gave up trying to understand the man's motives and assumed time would tell.  
  
I wondered who Legato would send against Vash the Stampede, and spent some time thinking about how Silvia and I might fare against the Humanoid Typhoon. As I thought, I could hear E.G. Mine pestering Legato about it with his annoying whine. In the final analysis, I think Legato sent Mine just to get rid of him. There was never a more irritating Gung-ho gun. But ever prudent, Legato sent Rai-dei the Blade along for back-up.  
  
Legato teleported the two of us to the top of Vista Hill to see how the battle played out. I had never seen Vash the Stampede in action before and I have to admit I was impressed. His speed was phenomenal and just as Nick and I had warned Mine, disabled the suit of spikes while Mine stood unaware that he was defenseless. Rai-dei showed up and summarily executed Mine for his failure. I wondered if the samurai would need to resort to trickery to beat the Stampede.  
  
I could see that Vash the Stampede had dozens of chances to kill his opponent, but never followed through on his advantage. I wasn't surprised when Rai-dei used a concealed weapon to wound the blond outlaw, but I was surprised that Vash the Stampede never fought back. I knew from Dominique's debriefing that the man's left arm was a machine gun, but he never even tried to use it.  
  
Legato's left arm seemed to be paining him and he massaged it frequently. The odd thought that Vash the Stampede and Legato had something in common flitted across my mind. They had both lost their left arms.  
  
The sound of gunshots roused me from the random thought and I saw that Rai- dei had wounded Vash the Stampede again. I wondered what was taking Rai- dei so long to finish him off. A minute later, it could have been no more, a strange light showed in the battleground.  
  
"What is that horrific light," I asked Legato. "Is he the one creating it? Vash the Stampede?"  
  
"Yes, this is the second time," he said. "The first was the explosion that took July twenty-three years ago."  
  
The light gave off the oddest nightmare glow and then pierced heavenward, a beacon that bored through the fifth moon and fissured it with cracks. As I watched the changes in the moon, the city of Augusta was overcome by a shockwave so intense that it shattered every window and tumbled every building.  
  
And so it was that I saw the great city of Augusta fall to ruins. One hundred and fifty years of progress brought to rubble in the space of a few minutes by Vash the Stampede.  
  
As for the man himself, he disappeared without a trace, hiding himself in the huge stream of refugees from the ruined city, just another lost homeless soul among countless thousands.  
  
For two weeks, agents from the Mouth of Gabriel tried to pick up a scent, but despite the best efforts of informants, there wasn't the slightest shred of a real clue as to the whereabouts of Vash the Stampede. In a few more days, after agents had chased down over a thousand frivolous dead-end leads, Knives gave Legato the word to suspend the search, and we were all recalled to Headquarters.  
  
When I arrived at the administration building, my first stop was the mail room. I was elated to see that there were three letters from Nick. I checked the dates and read the earliest first.  
  
Dear Midvalley,  
  
I hope by now, my father sent you a copy of my schedule. As you can imagine, I've really got my hands full, but will be in and out of Mei City from time to time in the next few weeks and will try to get updates on your tour from Kima. Looking forward to a consultation.  
  
Nick  
  
I smiled to myself as I read.  
  
Dear Midvalley,  
  
I was hoping to get a note or letter or something, anything from you, but I heard about the security lock down. Still I'm going to send this anyway on the off chance it may reach you. I'm going to be in the city of Augusta on the fourth. I checked your tour dates with Kima. I've got business in town that day, but if all goes well, I'll catch your concert if I can, and we can consult.  
  
Nick  
  
Damn, I had just missed him, probably only by hours.  
  
Dear Midvalley,  
  
I don't know if this letter will reach you. I've had no mail from you. I wrote to my father and asked him to forward any letters. I'm beginning to get a little paranoid about the silence on your end. It's probably just the security breach.  
  
I finished off the extra work I took on. It was harder than I thought. I had hoped to see you by now, but I have a new assignment and I don't know how long it will take to accomplish my objectives. I can't really say more than that. You know the rules. God, I miss you. Don't forget me.  
  
Nick  
  
This last letter was dated a month ago. Don't forget me, he'd written. As if I could.  
  
I knocked on Chapel the Evergreen's door and entered when he said, "Come in."  
  
I thought he was looking rather cheerful, not always easy to tell because of his infra-red eye implants.  
  
But I commented on it.  
  
"You look happy, Evergreen. Did you track down the source of the security leak?"  
  
"It was Jake Berkis and Ben Evans. Those two tried to frame me. They found out how Welch died. They got the impression that I had a hand in it, held me responsible for Welch's death and decided to get revenge. They'll cause no more trouble. It's a pity they couldn't understand that Welch's death was just business. It wasn't personal."  
  
I didn't ask where they were. I assumed they were dead, probably sharing the same ground as Bernie Welch and Ned Pitts, all four of the Randall City boys dead. It gave me a melancholy feeling. So many deaths and the Evergreen looked so happy. Maybe he'd heard from Nick.  
  
"Have you had any recent mail from Nicholas," I asked him.  
  
"Yes, I just received one yesterday, and this just arrived," he said and he handed me an envelope. "It's for you."  
  
I walked up the corridor, stepped outside, and sat down on the stone steps in front of the building and opened the letter.  
  
Dear Midvalley,  
  
It feels like ages since I saw you last. I have some business in the city of December, but will head back your way when things on this end are handled.  
  
Nick  
  
I felt a sense of letdown when I finished reading the note. I had hoped there would be a date of arrival. Then, in every other letter, Nick had made a point of mentioning consultation or that he missed me, but not in this one. The tone was business-like, matter-of-fact. We'd been apart so long. Did he even care for me any more? The question opened a dark abyss in my soul, but I hesitated before diving in, and re-read the note.  
  
' It feels like ages', he had written. I am still in his feelings, I reassured myself. He wrote the letter with his own hands. He had handled this very piece of paper. I refolded the letter carefully, slid it into the envelope and put it in the breast pocket of my jacket and sat for a while with my hand pressed there. I closed my eyes and thought of him. It had been a long time.  
  
I tried to bring his face into my mind. I couldn't remember it whole, but his lower lip was the first image that came clearly to me and I recalled sitting in the chair with him, the night I had taught him how to kiss. I smiled thinking how fearful and shy he had been, how his eyes had popped open and I saw them now, the dark blue liquid depths I longed to drown myself in again. His face and body took on shape and substance in my mind's eye. I recalled the texture of his skin, the feel of his hair, my lips on his nipple.I swallowed and inhaled, now aroused as I thought of his slim elegant body with its sculpted planes and curves, his legs gripping me as I thrust into his tightness.  
  
Before I was aware, I opened my link and my longing poured through it and I found him. He was tired and sad, but I could also sense his strong feelings for me. With my fears at rest, I felt very close to him and reached out with my healing ability to ease his pain in whatever way I could. I emptied myself and let the power fill me.  
  
For a few moments, I felt cool serenity, but then heard a high-pitched buzzing in my ears and my vision went black. An overpowering claustrophobia overtook me. I couldn't see. I couldn't breathe. I knew I was dying and felt the onset of panic as the life in me drained away. I tried to stand, to call for help, but my legs faltered and I fell. I felt a sharp pain as my head hit the sandstone steps. My last memory was of harsh laughter, a maniacal gleeful cackle that mocked me, until creeping blackness swallowed me whole. 


	27. Return to May City

Return to Mei City  
  
All I remembered was a mouth on mine that tasted of sweet milk and chocolate, hands pressing on my chest over my heart, a voice that whispered, "Midvalley," and golden eyes.  
  
Chapel the Evergreen told me later that when he found me he was sure I was dead and he's seen enough corpses to know the difference. He said that Legato arrived in a cloud of dust and pulled me back from the very brink of death. I'd never heard Chapel the Evergreen wax poetic before, so I realized he was crafting the story he'd tell over and over to future classes of academy students and other priests and bishops he knew. God help me if it showed up in the Daily Dish or the Epril Town Crier. I'd never hear the end of it.  
  
The Evergreen was completely in awe of Legato, and come to think of it, who wouldn't be. What it all boiled down to was, I owed the man again. It seemed like every time I found myself way over my head in some kind of trouble, Legato happened along to help me out. It tended to make my stand- offish attitude towards him seem almost ungrateful.  
  
For a man who had a near-death experience, I was in surprisingly good shape. I heard that Legato looked drained after saving my life, but that happens sometimes after a healing episode. It struck me when I had the thought that I suffered from some of the same symptoms, except I hadn't healed anyone.  
  
All I had to show for my brush from death was a small gash on my left temple, a mild headache and a touch of nausea, which passed when I chased a couple of pain killers with a cup of coffee. I pondered my good fortune as I sat in the Academy dining facility. It was mid-afternoon and the place was empty as usual at that hour, but the self-serve line offered sandwiches and a few entrees in steam trays. I wasn't particularly hungry, I had other things on my mind, but at the forefront was the question of how long it would be before I saw Nick again. I was thinking two weeks was a good conservative estimate when he walked through the door.  
  
I was across the floor with my arms flung around him in less than ten seconds. He could have no doubt from the warmth of the hug that I was glad to see him.  
  
His hug for me was, if anything more fervent. I suppose he had already heard the rumor of my "near-death" experience from his father.  
  
"Get a bite to eat and join me?" I suggested.  
  
"Sure thing, Middie. I'm starved."  
  
He came back to the table with a big bowl of chili and noodles and dug in with appetite.  
  
"God, this is good," he said.  
  
As he ate, I looked him over taking in the mop of black hair, the stubble of another careless shave on his chin, his golden skin, a little red from too much sun, his face a little thin. Funny how much I'd missed his face. It was so good to see him. I could see that he was giving me the same kind of scrutiny.  
  
"How come you're not eating, Midvalley? Are you still feeling sick?"  
  
"I was a little, but I'm better now. I could eat," I said and went through the line and brought back a cup of soup and a sandwich.  
  
We ate in silence for a while and then with his appetite dulled, Nick paused and asked, "So how was the tour?"  
  
"It was." I'd been about to say 'great', but realized how hard much of it was.  
  
"It had its highs and lows," I finally said. "The music was great, but we had some break downs and I was sick some."  
  
His hand reached across the table to close over mine. I looked up at him. His eyes were concerned.  
  
"I heard," he said.  
  
"Like the old phrase goes, 'The rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated.'"  
  
"Funny, but I'm not laughing, Midvalley."  
  
There was another silence between us that lasted a minute or two. Finally Nick said, "I wished I'd gotten to hear you play a concert. I heard your new song on the satellite. It came at a good time. I started to hear your music played in the lot of the towns I visited."  
  
"I wish you'd been there too. I wish I'd never said I was interested in fewer assignments. But what about you, Nick? How did your assignments go?"  
  
"The assignments," Nick said and let out a harsh sigh and reached instantly for a cigarette and had it lit and in his mouth with a third of it smoked in what seemed an instant. "I wish now that I'd never taken them on. Dominique had it right when she said fucking for money would have given her more pleasure."  
  
Nick's voice faltered at the end.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"The usual. People died.," he said exhaling a stream of smoke.  
  
"I saw there were women on the list," I said. "I wondered how it would affect you. They deserved it didn't they?"  
  
"After the first day, I stopped asking myself that question. By the end of the month, I was no better than Mazarov. I feel so dirty."  
  
He sounded more than bitter. There was pain in his voice. He took another deep drag of the cigarette, "I don't know if I'll ever feel clean again."  
  
Another silence fell between us.  
  
Dirty, he said he felt dirty. I felt the same way. Sure, I blamed Legato and E.G. Mine and Zazie the Beast for Dominique's death, and I could downplay my part in it all I wanted, but I still knew what I'd done. I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes.  
  
"I signed the order for Dominique's execution," I said.  
  
He must have picked up on the pain in my voice, but made no move to comfort me except to say, "Sorry, I know you were fond of her."  
  
I appreciated his tact. The last thing I wanted was to be bawling like a baby in a place as public as the dining hall. The gossip about me would only get worse if it seemed that my "near-death" experience was accompanied by a nervous breakdown.  
  
He offered me a cigarette and I gladly took it and lit up. We smoked for a while in silence while I racked my mind for a change of subject. Almost everything was too painful to discuss, but finally I had a question.  
  
"I heard that a priest who fit your description took part in a quick draw tournament in Mei City. Was that you?"  
  
"Yeah. It was covered was in the Mei City Times."  
  
"I heard you competed against Vash the Stampede. What was he like?"  
  
"Well, I'd have to say that guy is nothing but trouble, but he's also not what I expected."  
  
"He's not what I expected either."  
  
"You met him, Midvalley?"  
  
"Let's just say I saw him in action at Augusta."  
  
"You were there?"  
  
"On Vista Hill, overlooking the city. I saw the whole thing come crashing down, every building in ruins."  
  
"It's unbelievable that no one got killed."  
  
"I watched him for a long time, but I couldn't figure him out. When he arrived in town, he spent a lot of time, scaring the crap out of people. Lucky they took his threats seriously and evacuated the town. I still don't know why he did what he did. I heard he professes non-violence, but what happened to Augusta, looked like violence to me. There were homes and businesses there, now families are broken up and property destroyed. I passed through the Valley of the Dead on the way to Augusta and I still have nightmares about the place. Augusta was luckier than July, but what's next? September, October, November.?"  
  
Nick looked thoughtful but said nothing for a moment.  
  
"I'd hate to see December in ruins. The orphans and homeless children have been through so much already. The last thing they need is to be homeless again. A few children from Augusta have already shown up at the orphanage, and the place is almost bursting at the seams as it is. It made me sick to see what happened to Augusta."  
  
"You were there?" I asked him.  
  
"A last minute assignment."  
  
"I hate to bring up a sore subject, but you took on extra assignments to pay off a debt. Were you able to do it?"  
  
"I paid off most of it, and I should be able to hold off my creditors for a little while, but I'm still not exactly rolling in double dollars. I put in for vacation, and because things are so up in the air, the request was approved. I figure I can stay off work for a month, maybe more, if I'm extra careful, but that's all I can afford. What I want, Midvalley, what I need. is to spend time with you."  
  
The look he gave me tore at my emotions. I wanted him too, so much it hurt. I said. "Legato put me on a mandatory medical leave of absence for a month. If you want me to be with you, I'm free."  
  
Nick exhaled a cloud of smoke along with a sigh of relief.  
  
"Legato did that? My father told me Legato saved your life today," Nick said.  
  
"I suppose it's true," I said. "I felt like I was dying at the time, but here I am, still very much alive," I said with a wry smile.  
  
"You keep making jokes about it, Midvalley, but I'm still not laughing, I asked you to take care of yourself at the picnic." He paused and flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette, then inhaled again. He said nothing for a minute and another silence fell between us. He looked around the nearly empty room. I couldn't take my eyes off him.  
  
Finally his eyes met mine and he said, "I wish to God that for once, I could be the one to help you when you need it, but it looks like it's Legato who always comes through for you."  
  
"Nick, you're my partner. You saved my life when I got the concussion and lots of other times. We're a team. You've never let me down."  
  
He gave me a look that was full of want. I had my own wants.  
  
I wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. I wanted to feel his body thrusting in mine.  
  
"I want you bad, Nick," I said. I couldn't keep the longing out of my voice.  
  
I had the thought of us pants down right there in the dining hall, fucking.  
  
Nick's hand reached across the table to grip my wrist, "Let's get out of here. Where can we go?"  
  
"Mei City, this afternoon. We'll take the sandsteamer. If we hurry we can catch the 4:05."  
  
"The sandsteamer," Nick said with a gleam in his eye. " I'll take us to the station on Angelina."  
  
"Angelina," I said with a gleam of my own. I remembered the last ride I'd taken with my arms around him.  
  
The thought of getting away from the academy and into each other was so compelling that the teamwork we used to get there was as impressive as any we'd ever done for Knives.  
  
Since neither of us had had time to unpack, our luggage was ready to go. Nick went to get the motorcycle while I stopped in briefly at the admin building to sign the medical leave release form.  
  
He was waiting outside for me on Angelina with his cross punisher and our luggage tied down.  
  
"Don't worry, Midvalley," he said. "I was extra careful with Silvia's case."  
  
It took us under ten minutes to get to the station, only a quarter of an hour to buy the tickets, check our bags and arrange for Angelina's passage. The steamer arrived a little early, and when we got to the compartment we'd booked, we locked the door, pulled the shades and started pulling off each other's clothes. I was careful with the buttons of his black jacket, but the buttons on his shirt had me so frustrated that a couple popped off when I pulled it open.  
  
Oh, fuck," panted Nick, "my other shirt's in the baggage room," he said as he finally got mine unbuttoned, laid my chest bare and latched his lips on a nipple and started to suck it. I lay back gasping at the sensation, my body craving intimacy, the fullness of him. But more than anything else right now was to reacquaint myself with all of him. Somehow, we shed the rest of our clothes.  
  
My mind was empty of words and thought. Sensation was the only language I knew as I squeezed his buttocks, tasted him with my tongue, smelled the oils of his skin, ran my fingers through his hair. Tasting touching feeling smelling looking at him, I was so hungry for him. As the passion between us deepened, our touching grew more abandoned and fingers probed and caressed while our tongues kissed, licked, lapped and tasted everything and everywhere.  
  
Finally he nudged me down onto a cushioned seat and knelt between my legs. His lips slid intimately over the tender skin of my cock, then the hot liquid velvet of his mouth covered it. As if he had all the time in the world, he teased and stroked and sucked me until the intensity of the sensations he aroused sent me over the edge and I spurted my seed into his eager mouth. He lifted his face to mine to kiss me then and my salt taste swam on our tongues.  
  
With his dark eyes full of hunger for me, Nick pulled out the other seat in the compartment that converted to a bed, drew me to him and eased me down on the mattress. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out the bottle of sun cream oil that I recognized from months ago.  
  
"A souvenir I carry" he whispered as he oiled his prick, spread my legs and pierced me. I groaned from the sweet pain of it. He filled me full, rode me hard and I couldn't get enough of him. I pulled as close to him as I could, drinking in the sight of him, his teeth clenched and eyes closed in concentration. His naked desire for me only made me thirstier for him, and my cock grew hard again as he plunged and thrusted.  
  
"Nicholas," I moaned as my pleasure grew. He opened his eyes and saw my erection, the glans penis, dripping with precum. He slowed the pace of his motion to stroke me there. More and more fluid began to leak. I could feel his fingers get slick as he touched me and rubbed me until my throbbing cock ached for release again. I was closer and closer, my excitement at fever pitch, my feelings intense. With his frictioning fist pumping me, and my ass so full of him, I spasmed hard and the white spray of come spurted up on my chest and my sphincter clamped his erection.  
  
"Ah, Midvalley. My name was half growl, half gasp in his throat as he climaxed with one last intense push into me. After the last of his sperm drained into me, he pulled out and lay between my legs, his chest sliding on the semen on my stomach. He placed his head sideways his ear over my heart and listened while the frantic tumult of its beating calmed. I caressed the calves of his leg with the soles of my feet and in a minute or so in the aftermath of the act, with deep sighs, we separated. We shifted our bodies slowly, resettled more comfortably and nested close and boneless as pups in a litter. I fell asleep with my last sensation the feel of a sheet sliding over our bodies as he covered us.  
  
The rest did us both good and when we woke up a few hours later, we showered and shaved in the small cubicle set aside for that purpose. The quarters in the shower were tight and the hot water a sensual delight. It was a shame there was so little of it, but we both of us managed to get clean and clean-shaven. It was irresistible rubbing up against him. Soon we were both hot and bothered again. I took advantage of the sun cream bottle this time and ended up humping him up against the door of our compartment.  
  
I was urgent in my need and pounded into him hard. He took the soft skin of my shoulder between his teeth, bit down tenderly and sucked. The action was so erotic, my passion flamed into white heat and I lunged into him frantically. Each fevered thrust shoved his buttocks against the door and it must have sounded like a fight going on. There was a knock on the door and a man's voice asked, "Is everything all right in there?" I paused mid- stroke just long enough to choke out, "Everything's fine."  
  
Nick and I smothered snorts and sniggers and took the action to the bed tumbling onto it still locked together, but the mirth that shook us was an unexpected bonus that added to our momentum. I never laughed so hard when I climaxed before.  
  
We got in the silliest mood after that and ending up switching clothes. I wore his priest suit and the white shirt with the missing buttons and he wore the burgundy double breasted suit with my pink silk shirt.  
  
I played Nick's part, fished two cigarettes from the inside pocket of the jacket I wore, lit us both cigarettes and handed him one as I admired his looks  
  
"Damn," I said. "I swear that suit looks twice as good on you as it does on me."  
  
"I don't know," murmured Nick, "you make one hell of a sexy priest."  
  
Things got quiet after that and we stood together embracing in close comfortable communion, my cheek rubbing tenderly against his.  
  
"I missed you, Midvalley," he whispered.  
  
I answered softly, "I missed you too, Nick."  
  
In the corridor outside the compartment, I heard the conductor call out, "Next stop, Mei City. Ten minutes to Mei City."  
  
When the steamer pulled into the depot, we got off, I collected the luggage while Nick reclaimed Angelina and walked the motorcycle across the crowded platform. The Cross Punisher, inset behind the pillion seat in a specially designed notch, drew a lot of curious stares. Out on the street, Nick strapped our luggage on the motorcycle , mounted and revved the engine. I straddled the seat behind him, circled his waist with my arms and he took us home.  
  
When we got there, I opened the door, turned on the lights and he stepped in after me.  
  
"Nice, Midvalley," he said after he took a look around. He walked past me and propped the Cross Punisher against the wall in just the corner I thought he'd choose for it when I picked out the house.  
  
"Come and see the rest of it," I said. In here's the parlor, but I just use it for playing Silvia.and there's a bedroom for a guest or if you get sick of me and want a room to yourself."  
  
"As if I'd let you out of my sight again after missing you so much."  
  
"Well, then, in here is the master bedroom."  
  
Nick gave a low whistle when he saw the king-size bed.  
  
"That's one hell of a playing field," he said.  
  
"I think we'll find a use for the space," I said with a chuckle.  
  
"The bathroom is through that door," I continued.  
  
"Tub and a shower," Nick commented as he peeked into the room. "You think of everything."  
  
"I'm famous for planning," I said deadpan.  
  
"That you are," he agreed as he followed me into the kitchen.  
  
There was a note on the table in Lenny's handwriting.  
  
Hey, Hornfreak!  
  
Welcome back. Hot Lips wired me that you were headed this way with Chapel in tow. He said you might be feeling a little low, so we stocked your cooler and pantry. Don't even think of leaving the house for a few days. Dave and I wouldn't.  
  
Catch up on old times with Chapel, but just remember if you're not at the May Queen Club by 7PM on Friday night, we're sending out a posse to take you into custody.  
  
Lenny  
  
I looked in the cooler with Nick peering over my shoulder. Eggs, cream, bacon, cheese, tomatoes, peppers and onions. The pantry was stocked with coffee, bread, donuts and a carton of cigarettes. Lenny had thought of just about everything.  
  
"It's a nice place, Midvalley," he said, "The food looks good, but that's not what I'm hungry for."  
  
He took me by the wrist and led me back to the master bedroom.  
  
"It's kind of nice that you popped the buttons off my shirt, Middie," he said softly, "because it just makes it that much easier to."  
  
He never finished the sentence, but moved his hands over my skin in a slow sensuous slide that made my heart miss a beat. It was so different from the hard hot sex we'd had on the steamer. Now he was tender with me, and my heart was melting. I began to touch him with the same subtle rousing caresses. I wanted to take all the time in the world. I wanted to make this last and last.  
  
We were patient and loving now. With my eyes closed, my fingers explored his face, the high forehead, the bow of his lips. My tongue found the hollow of his ear and brushed it with the lightest of kisses. He moaned when my tongue found his lips, parted them and came to rest on his . He sucked it so tenderly, my groin thrilled.  
  
I slowly unfastened the buttons of the pink shirt he wore and eased it off his shoulders along with my burgundy jacket. As handsome as he looked in my jacket, he looked even better out of it. I unbuttoned the pants and slid them down past his thighs. They fell to the floor, and then he was naked. He finished undressing me and slid the black pants down around my ankles. I stepped out of them and leaned forward until the sensitive skin of our cocks brushed. My hands cupped his buttocks and his cupped mine and we swayed together our bodies touching with tantalizing friction.  
  
I tried a few times to open my empathic link. I was surprised when I couldn't. But then, I reflected, it was no great loss, as I kissed him and he kissed me back. I was so attuned to him now, that I could feel what he was feeling without it. It was a relief to be together again, but our deeper emotions were coming out now and we were neither of us laughing with joy.  
  
The past months of separation had left me with what felt like a hole in my heart, but as we stroked and touched each other so carefully, I felt the hardness in my heart, where I had walled off my guilt over the death of Dominique, soften. I felt myself suddenly on the verge of tears.  
  
Nick whispered, "I love you, Midvalley," and my eyes brimmed over.  
  
I couldn't speak at first, but hugged him tightly, and finally managed to control my voice enough to say, "I love you, too." Though his eyes were closed, the lids were wet and a teardrop trailed down his cheek. I kissed it away.  
  
We were both hurting and we both knew why, so we just held on tight to each other giving what comfort we could until the emotional storm quieted.  
  
It was the job. It was the fucking job. I couldn't lie to myself anymore about the real reason I had wanted fewer jobs. I was fed up with the killing and death. I hated the job, and when I thought about how impossible my situation was, it was all I could do to hold back a river of tears  
  
I was married to the job until death do us part. No one ever quit the Gung- Ho guns and lived to tell about it. I knew Nick felt the same way I did, but what could we say? What would happen if I put words to the way that I felt?  
  
I wanted to run away with Nick, drop out of sight like Vash the Stampede had, and just live with my lover, happily ever after. But who could drop out of Legato's sight? Vash the Stampede? Maybe. But Midvalley the Hornfreak? Never. The link with Legato was too strong and of such long duration, he'd find me for sure if he looked. Whatever feelings the man might have for me, loyal as he was to Master Knives, Legato would surely put them aside and kill me. And if he should learn of Nick's feelings through me.I was just glad the empathic link was closed off. I hated to think of the retribution if Legato ever stumbled onto the thoughts I just had.  
  
My loyalty to Knives had never been shaken, but the death of Dominique had raised a question in my mind. I still might be able to wall off a part of my feelings from Legato, but I didn't want to lie to myself. . And the question that I asked myself and tortured me the most was what would I have done if it had been Nick who failed against Vash the Stampede?  
  
The darkness of our feelings licked at us both and we ended up making love with a ferocity that seemed to have as much pain as pleasure in it. I was shaky emotionally after. I closed my eyes and lay beside him. There was no need for explanations. He took my hand in his, squeezed it, and held it. He was just as quiet as I was. One word would have unmanned us both. Finally I gained control of my emotions and sat up. Nick lit up a couple of cigarettes and we smoked in companionable silence for a while. The familiarity of the ritual restored my equilibrium and I felt a sense of peace steal over me.  
  
We slept all night and I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs frying. Nick brought me breakfast in bed wearing nothing but a smile. The pain of the previous night had eased and the new day brought new hope to us.  
  
We ended up recreating Nick's first lessons in love from the pillow fight to the 'breakfast'. The bacon grease and eggs that slipped off our bodies made a shambles of the bed sheets, but we both agreed afterwards that it was worth it. Finally we were way past fucked out, every last drop of backed-up come drained dry and so we cleaned up, got dressed and went out on the town.  
  
My first order of business was to buy a new set of sheets, but with that taken care of in short order, we strolled around town, taking in the sights. We walked a long time, content to be shoulder to shoulder, side by side. Nick made sure I put sun cream on my face so I wouldn't burn and gave me a pair of dark glasses for my eyes. I always forget.  
  
He took me to a small restaurant for lunch and introduced me to the owners and their son, Neal, who reminded me a lot of myself at the same age. Lots of people seemed to recognize my partner and some of the glances he got looked friendly, others looked frightened.  
  
The lunch was simple but delicious, one of my favorites, udon soup with smoked salmon and chopped scallions. We left the restaurant and when Nick walked out the door he was attacked by a group of five energetic boys who wrestled him down to the ground.  
  
"Ha, ha, Mr. Priestman," mocked Neal. "Just try to get out of the new super wrestling holds we invented."  
  
I had to laugh when I saw my friend rolling in the dust of the street, pretending he was no match for the boys.  
  
"Help me out here, Midvalley," he said with a look of comic exasperation.  
  
"Sorry, Mr. Priestman," I said, "Can't trash my suit."  
  
"Fine friend you are," he taunted me.  
  
"I've got faith in you, Chapel," I said.  
  
Nick stood up with five boys hanging on his arms and legs.  
  
"What do I have to do to get free?" he asked.  
  
"That's more like it," said Neal.  
  
"We want to see you shoot a coin out of the air."  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"That would be cool."  
  
"Yeah! Cool!"  
  
I ended up doing the honors for Nick who pulled out his automatic. I took five c-cent coins and flung them high in the air. I heard five gunshots and five pings. People peered timidly out of shop windows, concerned at the commotion. No one came to investigate.  
  
The boys scrambled to find the coins. Neal found one first and held it up for me to see. It bore the imprint of a bullet mark. Neal seemed disappointed.  
  
" I thought there would be a bullet hole in it. I bet Mr. Vash could have made a hole in it."  
  
"You're probably right, Neal," said Nick, "but that's the best I can do."  
  
"Oh, that's okay then. Thanks a lot, Mr. Priestman."  
  
Nick dusted himself off and we walked up the street to the May Queen Club to check out the action.  
  
Fleming, the owner of the place was there. I introduced him to Nick. Fleming recognized him at once as the winner of the Quick Draw held a month ago.  
  
He bought us both a drink and stayed to chat.  
  
"I hear you've bought some real estate and live here now, Mr. Midvalley."  
  
"Mei City has just the right mix of night life and culture, in my opinion, and some areas are relatively crime-free," I said.  
  
"I wasn't happy with the last mayor, and the new one doesn't seem much better. I wish the downtown area was crime-free," said Fleming, "but the criminal element is attracted to night clubs, always hoping to get a big payoff with a robbery. The gambling revenues can be pretty substantial. The security here at the May Queen is top-notch, so we haven't been bothered. But three other saloons have been robbed in the past two weeks. I pay my bouncers very well."  
  
Bouncers. I didn't like the subject. The only two bouncers I had known personally were Bill McFarlane who'd murdered my mother and high-spirited Jake Berkis. Both dead. I fell into reverie.  
  
Nick and Fleming must have kept the conversational ball rolling. I heard the name Vash the Stampede and snapped back to attention.  
  
".I guess when you consider what happened in Augusta, we were lucky he took it easy on us. I was surprised that you did more damage at the Quick Draw tournament than he did, Mr. Wolfwood, or should I call you Father?"  
  
"Wolfwood is fine," said Nick with a shrug.  
  
"Mr. Fleming," one of the bartenders called, " the brandy shipment just arrived."  
  
"I have to go but nice meeting you, Mr. Wolfwood and it's always a pleasure seeing you, Mr. Midvalley. The new mini-album has so much great music on it, I can hardly wait to hear you play again," he said as he moved away.  
  
"He seems like a decent sort," said Nick.  
  
"Well, he enjoys good music, keeps the piano tuned and pays me good money for playing the sax. I call that decent. Come to think of it. I haven't played Silvia for a while. I really ought to break in a couple of new reeds for the performances this weekend.  
  
"Let's go home then," Nick suggested.  
  
When we got back, I worked on Silvia and Nick worked on the Cross Punisher. He cleaned and oiled every gun in the caddy, broke down the machine gun, reamed the barrel with a lubed bore patch, checked the wiring on the rocket launcher and oiled the shotgun pump. It took him a couple of hours to do it all.  
  
I wasn't watching him the whole time. I was busy with Silvia, checking for leaks in the valves, tightening the screws, and adjusting the pitch. Satisfied finally, I polished her lovingly to a high sheen. Then I put in a reed I had primed, sat down on the easy chair in the parlor, closed my eyes and began to play her softly.  
  
One good note led to another and I lost track of time following the musical trail. I felt at peace when we finally went to bed, but my sleep was troubled. Nick too, tossed and turned and finally we ending up fucking to keep the dreams that haunted us at bay and fell asleep again and went dreamless.  
  
The rest of the week had its highs and lows, but gradually we were able to put the stress of the past months aside. Playing Silvia was always a sure cure for the blues but spending time with Nick went that one better.  
  
Our easy companionship restored good humor. When we made love Friday morning, my emotional link to Nick opened again. Legato was apparently out of range. My healing ability was still intact and I was able to give Nick the benefit. When I found myself humming afterwards and saw the smile on Nick's face finally reach his eyes, I realized that I was happy again and marveled again at my good fortune. We neither of us had felt so happy since the night of the picnic.  
  
We were excited to be going to the night club and put a little effort into getting duded up. I wore a chartreuse colored suit with a yellow silk shirt open at the throat with a matching silk handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket. Despite his compliment to me on the steamer, no one looked better in a basic black suit than Nick. A week of good meals had put flesh on his strong but slender frame. I slipped my arm around his shoulder affectionately. He'd been staring into space, but looked at me with a question in his eyes.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing," I smiled.  
  
"God, you look great tonight," he said.  
  
"So do you."  
  
"Let's go. We can have a drink and you can tune up and rehearse a little. I know how much you like to warm up before playing."  
  
Nick tucked an automatic into the holster he wore under his jacket and we walked to the club. A half block away, an hour and a half before the show was to start there were fans lined up outside, waiting to be seated. I suddenly felt reluctant to deal with them, so scooted into an alley and approached the club from the back. I found Hot Lips McCoy sitting on the back stairs of the place, sipping on a bottle of beer. He stood up when he saw me, "Hey, Freak, you look spiffy in that suit."  
  
"You don't look bad yourself, Hot Lips."  
  
He wore a black suit with a matching bowler hat and the trademark red bandanna knotted around his throat.  
  
"Got to make an effort for the fans," he said.  
  
"I don't believe I've met your friend," Nick said to me.  
  
"And here I was thinking you two already knew each other," I said with a shake of my head at my own absent-mindedness.  
  
"You're 'Chapel' aren't you?" said McCoy.  
  
"And you must be the 'poet of the trumpet', Kenny McCoy. I read the album liner notes," said Nick with a grin and extended his hand to Hot Lips who gave his own. "Pleased to meet you."  
  
"Likewise," said McCoy. "I finally get to meet Midvalley's muse."  
  
Nick gave him sharp look.  
  
" No offense," said Hot Lips. "That's what Dixie's been calling you. She's missed you a lot when we were out on tour, kept saying, 'I wish Chapel were here.'"  
  
"What's going on in there?" I asked McCoy.  
  
"Dixie and the boys are tuning up, Dave's running sound checks on the mikes, Lenny's trying out a new percussion toy he couldn't resist at Monk's Music-the usual."  
  
"Sounds like fun."  
  
"You always were a glutton for punishment."  
  
"That's crap, Hot Lips, I know you love it just as much as I do."  
  
"Yeah, I'm going back in just a minute. I'll see you inside."  
  
I followed Nick up the stairs through the door then down a corridor and into a small deserted alcove. Nick took my sax case from me, set it down, took me in his arms and kissed me with feeling. When the kiss finally ended, he held me close to him and said, "When I put in for vacation, I told my father I wasn't going to take on anymore extra assignments and that I needed to spend the balance of my apprenticeship with you."  
  
"That's good news, ," I said and gave him a heart-felt hug. As much as I had come to hate my job in the past couple of months, I realized that Nick's absence had intensified my dissatisfaction and felt greatly relieved that we could anticipate another year of close partnership.  
  
We disengaged, grinned and headed back up the hall and into the main room of the May Queen, which was still quiet except for the bar help who were making some last minute adjustments to the tables. I found a seat for Nick at a table reserved for the use of the musicians between sets and their guests and went up to the bandstand with Silvia.  
  
The band descended on me as soon as they saw me. Toby patted me on the back, Sunny pumped my hand and said, "Glad you're back."  
  
"About time you showed up 'Player'," said Randy with a grin, "we're tired of covering for your sorry ass."  
  
Jason waved the bow of his fiddle, smiled and said, "Hey, good to see you, Hornfreak."  
  
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. It was Dixie, who pulled me down to her, claimed a kiss, and said, "We missed you so much."  
  
Lenny gave me a leer and said, "I'd kiss you too, Midvalley, but Chapel'd kick the crap out of me,"  
  
"And I'd help him," said Dave with a friendly smile and a nod of greeting.  
  
The band made me feel welcome and I said, "It's great to be back."  
  
I unpacked Silvia put her strap round my neck, settled my lips on the mouthpiece, fingers on the keys and played a few scales.  
  
"Sounds good," said Sunny. "Silvia's sweet-tempered today."  
  
I smiled. She did sound particularly good.  
  
I was getting excited at the thought of making music.  
  
"Hot Lips said you got a new toy, Lenny, what is it?"  
  
He held up a wooden instrument that looked like a fish with raised ridges. He scraped a stick across the body of the instrument in a certain rhythm , varying the length of the stroke. It made a ratcheting, scratchy sound that was exotic and intriguing.  
  
"It's not a toy," said Lenny.  
  
"I'm impressed. I like it."  
  
"Think I'll use it for an intro. By the way, speaking of intros, Fleming wants to bring us on like he did the last time, so he's asked us to wait backstage while he lets the patrons in and sells a few drinks. He said the bouncers would be letting them in right about now."  
  
We filed off the bandstand but I went to sit with Nick for a few minutes. He had ordered a brandy for me. I took a sip and the sweet fire filled my throat.  
  
Nick looked peaceful with a cigarette in one hand and the other curled round a shot glass. I was far from tranquil. I was picking up the emotion from the crowd of patrons filling up the seats and my heart beat faster while my stomach was doing flip-flops. I often feel this way before a big performance. I didn't want a cigarette to calm my nerves. I finished the rest of my brandy, tugged on Nick's sleeve and said, " I'm going to hang with the band for a few and wait for the introduction."  
  
He squeezed my hand in farewell, and I stepped back in the corridor. I found Lenny and Toby and Randy pacing. Dixie was singing under her breath, reviewing lyrics. The rest of the guys were spellbound listening to the details of one of Hot Lips' road trips.  
  
Some fifteen minutes later, we heard Fleming announce 'the Midvalley Seven with trumpet legend, Kenny McCoy' and the crowd put their hands together and in a state of nervous excitement we filed up onto the bandstand and took our places.  
  
We got our instruments ready and looked to Lenny for the word.  
  
"You knew it was coming, guys," he said with a shrug and a laugh, "'Daredevil' it is!"  
  
This was 'Daredevil' as we never played it before. Having a virtuoso like McCoy gave us twice the depth on the tune. It was supposed to start as a kind of battle of the horns and Hot Lips was first up alone in the key light on the otherwise dark stage. He pushed his limits on trumpet and played a lot of fancy trills and glissandos that showcased his prodigious talent.  
  
We'd practiced the tune together a number of times on tour and when my turn came to join Hot Lips in the spotlight, I didn't hold anything back, but put everything I had into Silvia. She didn't let me down, and together we put out wild riffs and heavenly chains of spiraled notes. Higher and higher and higher her voice soared as if reaching for heaven and then together we held onto the high note.  
  
Lenny and Toby stepped up then, and laid down a torrid rhythm, heavy on bass and the music exploded as the combined talents of the eight of us pushed the limits of the song. We knew we had to open with a kick-ass song and the enthusiastic shrieks and cheers from the crowd when we finished, had us smiling and nodding our heads as we took our bows.  
  
I don't know why we were so 'on' that night, but we were. Talented as each of us was, together we pushed ourselves to a whole new level. It didn't seem to matter what we played. Even audience favorites like 'Moonsrise' and 'Cocksure' that I was quite frankly sick of because I'd played them so often took on a rich depth and luster.  
  
I was a little nervous anticipating the audience reception of my new songs. Every time Dixie sang one, her rich alto gave me goose bumps and sent chills down my spine. I tried to make Silvia sound every bit as good. Jason's talented fingers and bow work made his violin sing beautifully. Sunny, Mr. Emotion on guitar, had me on the verge of tears with the sensitivity he put into his playing and Randy, unselfishly gave Sunny all the support he needed, shadowing the high plucked notes with notes an octave lower.  
  
Our last set featured quite a few ballads, including "Serenade". I happened to glance down at Nick as Dixie sang the chorus. He was blinking back tears.  
  
"Though you may travel far away. yet in my heart you'll stay," sang Dixie.  
  
Fuck traveling far away, I thought. I'd rather be with him. I wouldn't be going on anymore tours, he wouldn't be taking on extra assignments and even if we were still stuck doing the job, at least we'd be together. With Nick at my side, I could get through anything.  
  
We played three encores. 'Hell and Damnation', 'Shoot 'em up', and we finished with 'Silvia's Tune', the one song I never get tired of. Hot Lips played the song with a lot of feeling. We were both tight on the number and I got the feeling that the song was special to him too.  
  
I got emotional after I took my lips off the mouthpiece and the audience gave us an ovation. As we stood in the spotlight taking our bows, Hot Lips put an arm round my shoulder. "I've told you before, I'm telling you again, your mother would be proud."  
  
I joined Nick briefly at the table.  
  
"I should be through with the fans in fifteen minutes at most."  
  
"Dream on, Middie," he said with a grin. "I'll be waiting outside in back. I want to get some fresh air and a smoke."  
  
"I'll be done as quick as I can."  
  
"Don't hurry. You played great. We've got all night, the next three weeks on vacation and another year as partners. Sell some more mini albums. You know you want to," he chuckled. "Besides," he added, "you're worth waiting for."  
  
I hated to see him go, but I answered his grin with one of my own and felt better. I squared my shoulders and went to face the fans.  
  
I autographed so many mini-albums my hand got tired, but it wasn't as bad tonight as it had been on tour. It wasn't at all hard to turn away the flirts with a quip and a smile, knowing that Nick was waiting for me in the alley.  
  
Nick had been right. I'd been dreaming thinking I could finish in 15 minutes. I looked across the room at Hot Lips to see how he was faring. He gave me a wave and went back to talking to the attractive blond who was buying an album. She slipped him a note and he pocketed it. Looked like maybe he was taking a little vacation time, too.  
  
In half an hour, I was back at the bandstand, carefully packing Silvia. Hot Lips joined me a few minutes later and packed up his trumpet. He pointed to the Mouth of Gabriel decal on the case, and said, "You know this business I was teaching you."  
  
I nodded.  
  
"It can wait a while. I heard from those in the know, that Legato approved Wolfwood's request to come off solo assignments and resume the apprentice partnership with you, subject of course to changes of circumstance. If Vash the Stampede is found again, I can guarantee you two will be out on special assignments so fast it will make your head spin. But the trail is dead. If Legato and Hoppered the Gauntlet can't find a trace of him, there's no hope for the rest of us."  
  
"Well, I can't say I don't need the leave of absence," I said. "I get a little sick of the headaches and puking."  
  
"I heard Legato saved your life. Did you use your link again after what I told you about avoiding it?" asked McCoy.  
  
"I guess so," I replied. "I really don't remember. I was starting to wonder if it might be causing the weakness, but I used it this morning and everything seemed fine, so I don't think it's the link."  
  
"Well, just be careful. Maybe there's nothing to worry about any more. I understand that Master Knives' has made great strides with his health," said McCoy.  
  
"Uh, that's good to know ," I said as I fastened the clips on Silvia's case. Why was he bringing that up? I didn't care. Nick was waiting for me. "Well, it's been a pleasure as always, Hot Lips, but I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time, same place?"  
  
"Sure, Freak. Tomorrow."  
  
I headed up the hallway to the back door. The rest of the band was long gone. I stepped out into the dark quiet night. I could see the red glowing tip of Nick's cigarette and smiled. I remembered the last time I was out here. How many months had it been since I'd kissed Lenny in this very alley and made Nick jealous enough to act on his desire for me?  
  
I walked down the steps and into the shadows. Nick took Silvia from my hand and gently set down the case. He stubbed out the cigarette and snugged an arm around my waist. It was very dark, but I could hear sounds from the club, the clink of silverware being washed and the rattle of dishes being stacked. The kitchen help at the club was cleaning up before going home for the night.  
  
Nick wanted to tell me something. His hands were gentle as he brushed the hair back that draped the sides of my forehead.  
  
"Midvalley," he whispered.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He stopped speaking for a moment.  
  
I heard a couple giggling in the alley, then they moved on to the boardwalk in front of the club.  
  
Nick was about to speak again, but seemed to hesitate, as if distracted and I felt his body tense up. I caught the sound of a scurry of steps in the alley. Nick shoved me down to the ground and I heard the bark of four gunshots and the thuds of three bodies falling.  
  
The back door lights of the club went on and Nick stood over me at a strange angle his automatic held loosely in his right hand, "Are you all right, Middie?"  
  
"I'm fine, Nick," I said. He lent his left hand to help me up, but lurched when I put my weight on it.  
  
Fleming came out with three bouncers.  
  
"Everything all right out here?"  
  
"Midvalley?" said Nick in a faint tone.  
  
I turned to him and caught him as he slumped to his knees and sagged forward in my arms, his head sunk on his chest. The automatic slipped from his hand and clattered to the paved walkway. I eased his limp body to the ground, saw my right hand covered in blood, knelt and frantically ripped open his suit jacket. His white shirt was soaked with blood.  
  
"Oh, God, Nick," I gasped.  
  
"My partner's been shot!" I yelled to Fleming. "Where's the hospital?"  
  
Fleming reached for keys in his pocket and put them in the hands of the bouncer.  
  
"Jerry, take the jeep and help him get his friend to the hospital."  
  
"It's only four blocks," he said to reassure me.  
  
Jerry was fast and Fleming quick to help me get Nick in the jeep. I sat with his body cradled in my lap while Jerry peeled out down the alley into the street.  
  
"Oh, God, Nick," I whispered as I clasped his body to me. "Oh, God." 


	28. Blood and Guts

Blood and Guts  
  
Fleming must have called ahead The on-duty emergency staff met us at the door with a gurney. I helped them lift Nick onto it. They removed his jacket and handed it to me. I was sick to see how large the red stain on his shirt had grown, and when they opened the shirt and the top of his pants, I saw dark blood welling up from a hole in his lower left side. I also smelled shit and moaned low when I knew my friend was gut shot. This could kill him I realized.  
  
The doctor and two nurses started to work on him.  
  
"You'd better get him out of here," said the doctor with a brusque tone and an irritated glance in my direction.  
  
One of the nurses walked me back to a waiting room.  
  
The bouncer, Jerry was there.  
  
"Sorry about your friend. Fleming sent me over here. He's busy with the sheriff at the club. Oh, I was supposed to give you this," he said.  
  
He pulled Nick's automatic out of his waistband and said, "Here's his gun. Don't know if you heard about the rash of night club robberies."  
  
"Fleming mentioned something about it this afternoon."  
  
"Looked like ours was next on the list but your friend in there foiled the robbery attempt. Fleming's so grateful, he wanted me to tell you that the hospital bill is on the house. He also wanted to let your friend know that there was a big bounty out for the three he killed. Over 200, 000 double dollars-dead or alive. I guess your friend will be a rich man."  
  
"If he lives," I said.  
  
"Is he hurt bad?'  
  
"Gut shot."  
  
"Oh that's bad. Is he a good friend?" asked Jerry.  
  
"Yeah, and he took a bullet for me tonight."  
  
"Really good friend then. Sorry. Hope it turns out good for you. I gotta go."  
  
And then I was alone with worries that threatened to overwhelm me. I couldn't just sit there so I paced for a while. More than once I felt I couldn't take the suspense any longer and made up my mind to barge into the room and check on him. What the hell was taking them so long anyway?  
  
"Oh, God, don't let Nick die," I whispered out loud. I shut my eyes and prayed, "Oh, God, help him pull through this."  
  
What had gotten into me? I'm not a religious man and I don't believe in heaven, but I was suffering the pains of hell whenever I thought of going on with life without Nick.  
  
"Oh, God, help me pull through this," I prayed.  
  
I was praying to a god I didn't believe in, but I think Nick did, and right now that was good enough for me.  
  
Of the five agents I knew who had been gut shot, three were dead, one was crippled, and the other working a desk job way out in the boonies near Carcassus. It was a tough wound to bounce back from. The odds weren't in Nick's favor. Oh fuck, I was going out of my mind and I knew damned well I had good reason to. Nick could die. My knees started to shake and I had to sit down. I hugged Nick's jacket to me and began to rock nervously.  
  
Every time I looked at the clock, it looked like another half-minute had gone by. Time was about at a standstill. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and went back to the room where they were working on Nick, opened the door a notch and looked in. Then I wished I hadn't. Nick was lying with his head lolled back, his mouth slack and he was so pale under his tan, he looked dead. But they were still working on him, so he must be alive.  
  
"More blood," said the doctor, "and a fluid drip."  
  
A nurse hurried to comply. I moved aside as she pushed past me through the door. I was just in the way.  
  
I went back to the waiting room and sat holding Nick's coat in my arms. Then it occurred to me to have one of his cigarettes. Maybe it would help to relax me. I pulled one out of his breast pocket and fumbled around for matches. My fingers found bundled papers and then finally the small box and I pulled it out. The match box bore the logo of the May Queen Club. A piece of paper was stuck to it and fell to the floor. I picked it up. It was a funds transmittal telegram.  
  
"Remit $$1000 to the Orleans Orphanage, City of December."  
  
The remitter's name was Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The date of the wire was just a few days ago. Just out of curiosity, I pulled out the bundle of papers that I had felt in his pocket. There were more transmittals, fifty or more and all made out to the Orleans Orphanage I found as I thumbed through them. One from a month ago was for $$100,000 dollars, most of the others were for 1500 to 2000 double dollars. There were notations on some of them. Groceries, staff salaries, clothing, hydroponics equipment, whatever that was. Air cooler.that rang a bell. I thought back and recalled that Nick had received a letter from the orphanage a few months ago and been concerned about a broken air cooler.  
  
No wonder he was always broke. He was spending a fortune on these motherless, fatherless children. I shook my head trying to figure it out. This had to be the debt that he was paying off. A debt that could never be paid off, I realized. The more I thought, the more I realized that Nick's actions were aimed at easing his guilt over the little girl, Charlie he had killed by accident during the Drake hit. There was no way he could bring her back to life, but he could make life better for other children. Funding the orphanage had been what he meant when he spoke of restitution.  
  
I felt a surge of admiration for his dedication and generosity.  
  
"You never cease to surprise me, my friend," I whispered to myself.  
  
I put the receipts back in the coat, lit the cigarette and smoked it. It eased my pain and made me feel close to him, somehow to be smoking his cigarettes and holding his jacket. I draped his black suit coat over me and dozed off.  
  
A sixth sense woke me up. I saw by the clock that nearly two hours had elapsed and then the door of the room where Nick was opened and the surgeon stepped out.  
  
"Mr. Midvalley, isn't it? I saw you play at the Bedbug with Mr. McCoy."  
  
"Yes, I'm Midvalley. How is my partner?"  
  
"Ah, so he's your partner," said the doctor with a raised eyebrow. "He was shot in the lower left quadrant of the abdomen and the bullet punctured his colon. Some of the bowel contents leaked and I have no doubt that some peritonitis will develop. The only question is how severe it will be. The bullet I took out of him was a .45 caliber that tumbled a bit and did some damage. I sutured the areas of perforation very carefully and made them as snug as I could because your friend is going to be very, very sick and if he vomits too violently, he may rip open the stitches again.  
  
We put him on a heavy course of antibiotics and a drip to restore fluid and nutrients, because without it, he could die of complications from dehydration.  
  
"Will he live?" I asked.  
  
"I'd like to say yes, but I don't know. In wounds as severe as this, sometimes all the organs just shut down."  
  
I felt sick when I heard him say that.  
  
"My friend is going to make it," I said. I only wish I felt as confident as I sounded.  
  
"Well, for the moment, Mr. Wolfwood's condition is stable. Your friend may very well make it, as you say. A positive attitude never hurts, but if he does, you should be aware that he's looking at a fairly lengthy recovery time, a minimum of two months, more if there are complications. The average time of recovery is about three months."  
  
"Three months." I murmured. We'd been so happy. We had plans for pity's sake.now what? It was a question with no immediate answers and one I couldn't bare to contemplate, so my mind shut down. I didn't hear anything the surgeon said, just a sound like white noise in my head, until finally I felt a tug on my arm.  
  
"Are you all right, Mr. Midvalley?"  
  
I turned my gaze to the doctor.  
  
"I've put our best nurses on to make sure he gets the best care possible."  
  
"Thank you, doctor. May I sit with him?" I asked.  
  
"Of course," said the doctor, "stay as long as you like."  
  
I watched the surgeon walk up the corridor. I was almost afraid to open the door again to look at Nick, but I pulled it open and entered the room.  
  
The first thing I noticed was how colorless Nick's face was. Nick thinks my skin is pale, but the only other people I had seen that white had been corpses and the thought gave me cold chills. Nick lay on his back with several tubes hooked up to his arms. A monitor beeped by his bedside and a nurse was taking his vital statistics.  
  
"He's too pale," I murmured to the nurse. "His skin is usually so tan," I tried to explain my worry.  
  
"He lost a lot of blood," said the nurse. "Repairing the damage to the bowel took more time than the doctor would have liked. One thing in his favor though."  
  
"What's that?" I asked, anxious for the slightest good news.  
  
"He's got a good strong heart," she said.  
  
I felt her words differently than she intended on a deeper more personal level.  
  
"That he does," I said softly. "He saved my life tonight."  
  
"He's a good friend, isn't he?"  
  
"The best," I said. My voice caught as I spoke the words.  
  
"You really ought to get some rest," said the nurse. "The anesthetic hasn't even worn off yet."  
  
She made a notation on a chart by the door and left the room.  
  
I sank into a chair and draped Nick's jacket over me for a blanket, watched his face and the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. I felt through the link for him, closed my eyes and and concentrated on sending some healing through it. The effort exhausted me and I dozed off.  
  
I woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. I looked at Nick. His face was flushed and at first I was relieved to see that it finally had some color in it, but when I reached through the link to see how he felt, I was overwhelmed by the physical sensations that bombarded me. I felt so hot like my head was about to explode and my breath came in rapid gasps. I looked at Nick. His breathing was ragged. His monitor started pinging like crazy and a nurse charged into the room.  
  
"His fever is spiking. You should leave for a while," she said as another nurse brought in some more tubes and bottles and started to join her working on Nick.  
  
"Come back this afternoon," she said.  
  
I left the room with one last backward glance at Nick. He looked so ill, it hurt to look at him and I walked down the corridor with downcast eyes and a lump in my throat. As long as he was still alive, I wouldn't cry.  
  
"Pull it together, Midvalley," I told myself sternly. "He's going to be fine."  
  
With a faith based solely on my desire for it to be true, I put aside the doubts that threatened to paralyze me and willed myself into action on Nick's behalf.  
  
I went home first. It wasn't more than a twenty minute walk from the hospital. I don't know what I thought of while I walked, but the movement seemed to do me good. When I looked in the mirror when I got home, I saw that my pale green suit and yellow shirt bore the stains of Nick's blood. I was still holding Nick's coat tightly in the other. I set it down on the bed we had made love on and would have burst into tears, but I forced them back. I would not let them fall.  
  
"He's going to be fine," I told myself through gritted teeth.  
  
As I showered and changed I thought about how dangerous Mei City had become. When I thought of danger, I thought of Silvia, my constant protector.  
  
"Shit," I said to myself. In all the confusion, I left her at the club. I was worried for a minute and then relaxed. I was sure she was fine, but I was going to head over to the club anyway to make sure she was. I decided I had better pack a weapon. I pulled a shoulder holster and a clean oiled automatic from my dresser, loaded it with a 15 bullet clip, and slipped the rig over my shoulders.  
  
Besides picking up Silvia, I wanted to pick up my pay for the previous night's gig, tell Fleming there was no way I was playing again, until Nick was out of danger. I also wanted to find out what needed to be done to make sure that Nick collected the bounty for the three robbers.  
  
When I got there, Fleming was busy answering some questions from a deputy about the shootings. I asked the officer what had to be done to put the process of claiming the reward into motion. He mentioned three sets of paperwork and the need for a power of attorney if I was working on someone else's behalf. He made it seem like there was a lot of it, but I wasn't scared. A master of the five-page field report like myself was hardly going to be put-off by paperwork, no matter how involved.  
  
I needed to get affidavits in triplicate from Fleming and the bouncers who were on the scene just after the shootings and ended up filling one out too, since I was an eye-witness. The hardest thing was going to be getting power of attorney for me to act on Nick's behalf.  
  
It occurred to me that I ought to contact the Academy, and Chapel the Evergreen to let him know that his son was seriously wounded, and so I sent him a wire.  
  
I checked through the link every now and then to see how Nick was. I could tell he was unconscious and feverish but that was all. There was nothing about his condition that worried me, so I decided to visit Monk's music store to see if I could keep from going out of my mind.  
  
I bought a couple more boxes of reeds while I was there. I went home and played Silvia for a while, ended up improvising a melody that slipped and slid in a minor key. It was the musical sum total of all my worries over Nick.  
  
When I set down Silvia, I felt ill at ease at once, and the uneasiness was something I was feeling through my empathic link. I hadn't been able to access the link while I was playing, but now I could tell that Nick was feeling very ill, so I headed back to the hospital.  
  
When I entered the room, I saw at once that Nick was all alone without a nurse in sight. His dark blue eyes were open but unfocussed, his face was flushed. He shivered as if he were freezing, but when I touched his forehead, it was burning with fever.  
  
I yelled for a nurse.  
  
"What the hell do you want," asked Nick in his deadliest voice. He stared right at me when he said it. "If you touch a hair of his head, I will fucking kill you."  
  
He started to mutter under his breath, "Needle-noggin idiot anyway, always trouble. What next. Shit. I've got to get loose."  
  
Nick started to pull tubes out of his arms.  
  
"Fuck, Nick, don't," I said with desperation.  
  
"Let me go, dammit," he said and he struggled with me.  
  
"Vash!" he called. "Vash, you moron."  
  
I pinned his arms down so he wouldn't do more damage to himself.  
  
"Why are you holding me," he asked. "I have to go to him."  
  
"Where's Midvalley," he said. "I need Midvalley," he sobbed. "Midvalley," he asked plaintively, "where are you?"  
  
"Right here, partner," I said with tears stinging my eyes.  
  
Just then a nurse appeared, elbowed me aside and plunged a hypo into his thigh muscle, a moment later his eyes rolled back in his head. Another nurse arrived with a cart and I saw them putting ice packs on his body as a third nurse came in and nudged me out of the room and into the hall.  
  
I went back to the waiting room, poured a glass of water, gulped it down, then lit a cigarette from Nick's pack. I smoked it and half of another trying to calm my brittle nerves, when it hit me like a bolt of lightning and I said out loud to the empty room, "Who the hell is Vash?"  
  
It had to be Vash the Stampede and my Nick was on a first name basis with him? I brooded over that while I smoked another cigarette, but by the time I finished it, I let go of the jealous thoughts that had started to eat at me and was left with the satisfaction of knowing that when Nick had felt his worst, he called for me.  
  
After that episode, I didn't trust the nurses to care for him again. I was frightened by how quickly his condition had deteriorated in just a few hours. I resolved not to leave him alone again until I was sure he was better. I poured a cup of hours-old coffee and slipped back into Nick's room. Things were calmer now.  
  
Nick slept peacefully with his dark hair spread out on the pillow. His monitor pinged slow and strong. My emotions see-sawed between relief and fear. He had made it through the crisis alive. Finally the sheer effort of controlling the conflicting emotions and hours with only snatched naps, brought me to the point of exhaustion and despite the strong coffee I had just drunk, I fell asleep in the chair by his bed. When I woke it was to find his eyes on me. When he saw I was awake, he gave me a faint half- smile and whispered, "Hey, you're alive."  
  
"Thanks to you," I said. "You took a bullet for me."  
  
"I'm glad," he said. His eyelids slid shut and moments later his breathing deepened into soft snores. While he slept, I slept. When I woke up, he was still sleeping. The nurse was standing beside him, her fingers on the pulse in his wrist.  
  
"How is he," I asked her.  
  
"He gave us quite a scare, but his fever's broken. I'd say he's on the mend. You look like you could use some rest yourself."  
  
"I don't need rest," I said. "I need to make sure that my partner gets good care and stays alive."  
  
"Sure, that's fine," she said.  
  
Hours passed. I only left to use the bathroom or to get a drink of water or coffee. I started to get hungry. I hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours.  
  
The nurse came back. Nick was still asleep. She checked the tubes in his arms and changed the bags of the intravenous drip that delivered the anti- biotic, pain medication, liquid and nutrients.  
  
"Your friend's condition is stable. If you need to, you could step out for a bite to eat. I'm on duty for the next couple of hours. I promise I'll take good care of him."  
  
When I left Nick, I hurried home, showered and shaved and ate a few slices of bread with cheese. I got a melancholy feeling when I saw the bed in my room. Nick had been so vibrant and passionate-how long ago had that been? And now.Images assaulted me of Nick dead, me standing next to his grave. I couldn't take it.  
  
"No!" I said out loud. "He's not going to die!"  
  
Nick was still sleeping when I got back and his color was better.  
  
I was surprised that Chapel the Evergreen hadn't shown up to visit his son. The trip from Epril Town to Mei City is only 400 iles. He should have arrived by now, I would have thought. I knew that he and Nick had their differences, but I had always thought that there was a bond nonetheless, but perhaps there were more problems at the academy.  
  
It seemed almost peculiar to me what happened next. I was thinking of Evergreen when a messenger arrived with a wire for me from him. Terse as all his wires were, this one was no different.  
  
"Sandsteamer arrives 7 am Sunday morning. Meet me. New orders from headquarters. Chapel the Evergreen.  
  
It was Saturday afternoon.  
  
I didn't want to meet Chapel the Evergreen. Not if I had to leave Nick to do it. But Evergreen had mentioned new orders from headquarters.  
  
There were only two reasons I could think of for new orders. One, that something had come up and my medical leave was canceled or there were to be new assignments as Hot Lips had suggested. Could they have found Vash the Stampede so soon?  
  
Of course, no leave is ever set in stone. Everything is subject to immediate change. But the thing that was floating around in the back of my mind was that the partnership was about to be broken up and the thought was torture to me.  
  
If I was going to meet the Evergreen on business from Headquarters, I supposed I would have to make an effort to appear professional, and much as I hated the idea , that meant leaving Nick.  
  
I met with the nurse who was going to be assigned to Nick that evening. She seemed very smart and helpful. Her name was Carrie.  
  
Nick woke up and stayed conscious for a while. He gave me a tender lazy smile and said, "Midvalley."  
  
I loved the way he said my name. I took his hand and held it.  
  
"Your dad's arriving on the sandsteamer tomorrow morning at 7. I think he's worried about you."  
  
"Yeah, maybe," he said. "More likely it's about new assignments."  
  
Weak and feverish as he had been, Nick's mind was sharp as ever..  
  
"But I'm on medical leave for another three weeks."  
  
"Then the last thing you need is to be taking care of me."  
  
"You're wrong, Nick."  
  
He gave me another smile with his eyes half-closed and squeezed my hand.  
  
I stayed with Nick until midnight, but finally left to go home and get some sleep.  
  
Sleep was hard to come by. Every time I dropped off to sleep, my worries came back and I woke up and I rechecked my link with Nick to see how he was feeling. But every time I checked he seemed to be fine. Finally I fell asleep, but woke up at 4 AM with a sick feeling in my gut, a piercing headache and a sensation of fever-it had to be Nick.  
  
I threw on my pants and shoes, left the house at a fast walk and finished buttoning my shirt and jacket en route to the hospital. Then I began to run. Fear spurred me on. I cannoned through the front door , took the steps up to Nick's floor two by two. I ran down the hall on his floor, but I didn't see any nurses or orderlies anywhere.  
  
When I opened the door of his room, I was hit by the smell and sound of retching. It was Nick. He was a mess, delirious, vomiting, shivering and when I saw the wide bandage around his waist covered with fresh blood, I yelled , "Son of a bitch!!!" and charged out the door at a run to find the nearest doctor on duty.  
  
I heard sounds coming from a patient room, opened the door and found one of the orderlies fucking a nurse. It wasn't Carrie.  
  
I pulled him out of her and threw him on the floor while he was still babbling a garbled, "What the hell."  
  
I pulled the holstered automatic out of my jacket and shoved the business end of it in his mouth. "You want some of this? You find a doctor and send him to Wolfwood's room and hurry up or I will hunt you down and kill you and everybody in your whole fucking family". When I took the gun out of his mouth, he stammered, "Yes, sir," and scurried off as if his life depended on it.  
  
I yanked the nurse by the hair and she screamed, and followed me as I dragged her down the hall to Nick's room.  
  
Nick was lying still as death on the floor when I found him. His chest wasn't moving.  
  
"Fuck!" I yelled. "I think he must have choked on his vomit. Help him for God's sake. He needs help. I don't care how you do it but he'd better live. If he doesn't, you're a dead woman."  
  
She cleared his air passage in no time flat, breathed into him a few times and he started to breathe again, deep rasping breaths. His eyes were glassy and then he vomited again.  
  
Less than a minute later there was a team of nurses and doctors in Nick's room. Dr. Reed, the surgeon who had sewed up Nick was among them.  
  
I calmed myself and got out of the way as they started to work on him, but there was no fucking way I was leaving him alone again. 


	29. Father and Son

Father and Son  
  
After the surgery on Nick was finished and he seemed to be resting comfortably, I listened to the medical staff stammer excuses for a couple of minutes about what happened to my partner. I registered that they were probably terrified that the murderous sax player was going to blow their brains out. I hadn't really wanted to threaten anyone, but what I did got action and Nick's life was out of danger for the moment.  
  
With the crisis handled, I just felt numb. I tuned out explanations about why my lover had almost died and sat down in the chair by his bed sank my head in my hands and tried to deal with the emotions that still agitated me.  
  
I was still worried about him, wondering how to avoid a repeat performance of today's medical fiasco. My partner was seriously wounded and might not live. Much as I had wanted to be positive, I had to face facts now while I thought of the best thing to do. I didn't even want to think of what wild card Chapel the Evergreen might throw into the deck.  
  
I tried but could not entertain the thought that Nick would die. I had to assume that he would live as I made my plans. I thought deeply about Nick and all the things that he had shared with me about his life and I began to get the glimmer of an answer. When I was ill with the side effects from my concussion, the thing that got me back to normal was doing the thing I love most, making music. It was obvious to me now what Nick loved the most, and it was children. And so the insight came to me that if Nick was in for a lengthy convalescence, there was no place he would rather be than the Orleans Orphanage where he sent most of the money he made week after week. I was going to make sure that he got there.  
  
It was just after I had my brilliant idea that I saw Chapel the Evergreen enter the room. He came over to stand by me.  
  
"You didn't meet me at the depot."  
  
I don't know if he realized how much it pissed me off to hear him say that.  
  
I stood up and not out of respect. I was damned if I was going to look up at him. I'm pretty much of a height with Nick. The Evergreen was a few inches shorter and I was glad for the intimidation advantage. Chapel the Evergreen is a dangerous man, but I can deal with the best when necessity arises. There was no way I was making excuses to a man whose son was lying gravely injured not a yard away and the first words on his lips were that I didn't meet the sandsteamer he came in on.  
  
"My partner had a medical crisis. The care he was getting was sub-par and I had to make a few threats to get action. I think he would have died if I hadn't."  
  
The Evergreen turned to the bed to look at his son. The sight of my lover's pale face gave my heart a pang. It hurt to see him look so ill. I watched to see the father's reaction to his son's condition. He reached out his hand and rested it for a moment on Nick's forehead. I couldn't tell whether from curiosity or tenderness.  
  
"He has a slight fever," he said. "I can see it with my implants."  
  
I felt it through the link.  
  
"Not two hours ago, his temperature was so high he was delirious and they had to use ice packs to get it down, so he wouldn't get brain damage."  
  
The dour priest seemed to consider this.  
  
"I read in the Epril Town Crier that Nicholas foiled a robbery attempt. The news was also picked up on the satellite. The report is that my son risked his life to save yours. The article says he pushed you out of the path of the bullet."  
  
"That's true," I said.  
  
"Master Knives was very interested when he heard the story and mentioned that he wants Nicholas for a special assignment, when he gets well of course. It's been a dream of mine, that something like this might happen. To be Master Knives' body guard-I can think of no greater honor."  
  
I knew that Chapel the Evergreen put loyalty to Master Knives above everything else, including his love for his son. It had always been of the greatest importance to me, as well, even though I had never been in the man's presence. The only ones to see him were the Evergreen, Leonof the Puppetmaster, Legato Bluesummers, and a doctor who made regular visits to aid in his regeneration.  
  
I supposed that with his reliability having come into question because of efforts of Jake Berkis and Ben Evans to get him discredited, Chapel the Evergreen was trying to regain his position of trusted advisor to Master Knives. As for me, I still revered Knives, but when I thought of what was important to me now, I could see that I put my love for Nick at the same level and that frightened me somehow. What if I should ever have to choose? Just contemplating that for a moment awakened intense anxiety in me, until I realized that loyalty to Knives was just as important to Nick as it was to me.  
  
"Your wire mentioned new assignments," I prompted him. "I'd like to remind you that I am still on mandatory medical leave on Legato's say so. I still have three weeks of it left."  
  
"Understood. Legato wants you to take advantage of the time and use it however you see fit. He speaks of your abilities with great respect, and that is why he wants you fully recovered, so that you can act as his executive officer, his right hand man, when your leave is over. Leonof and I have been hoping for this for years."  
  
"Do you have any plans with regard to your son?" I asked him.  
  
"Well, naturally I'm as concerned about his welfare as you, Midvalley. I may not show it all the time, but I am very fond of Nicholas. I was thinking of taking him back to the academy infirmary to get well. You're not the only one who knows how inconsistent the care is in hospitals."  
  
"I was giving your son's situation some thought and I believe that he would make faster progress at the orphanage in December."  
  
"Nicholas has visited the orphanage in the past and when he does, it seems to do him good. My only concern would be that he will need continuous medical treatment because of the infection. You would have to have a nurse in attendance at all times. And the trip to December takes a good four days by sandsteamer, more if there are delays. There have been reports of bands of outlaws, raiding the sandsteamers when they reach the Badlands, and several have been attacked."  
  
"I hear the same news reports that you do. But I should be able to do it. I have the money to finance his medical care, but I need to run a few errands today. Is it possible for you to stay with your son for several hours. There is no one else that I would trust with his welfare."  
  
"Of course," said the Evergreen.  
  
With one last look at Nick's drawn face, I left the room, and proceeded with my plans. I had so much to do.  
  
My first agenda was to talk to Dr. Reed. He was having a coffee in a small café near the hospital. He looked visibly flustered when he saw me walk in the place and even more so when I sat down at his table.  
  
"Your partner's health is all right, isn't it? I swear I did my best," he said in an agitated voice.  
  
I found his display of naked fear annoying.  
  
"Relax," I said.  
  
I've seen more than a few surgeons work in my day, and I could tell that Reed was very good.  
  
"I was just as upset as you were when I saw your partner's condition," Reed began.  
  
"Not remotely," I said with withering contempt.  
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't compare the situations, but I pride myself on my patients' survival rate. I could not foresee your partner's nurse would be assaulted while she was on a short break. I was certainly not aware that her back-up would behave so irresponsibly. I heard the story of what happened from the orderly on duty at the time."  
  
"I don't need excuses," I said. The doctor paled. He probably thought I was going to kill him and that a long story would buy him time.  
  
"I'm not going to kill you," I said.  
  
"You're not?" said the surgeon with an audible sigh of relief.  
  
"I need help. I want to transport my partner from here to a facility in December and I know I need a qualified nurse or doctor to oversee his care. I would like to leave today."  
  
"December is so far," Reed said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and considered my proposal. I gave him a minute to think about it.  
  
"It could be done," the doctor continued, "but you'd need someone very qualified to care for him and to deal with potential emergencies. That's why we prefer it if the patient stays at the hospital to assure a certain level of care."  
  
"The level of care at your hospital almost killed my partner."  
  
"True enough," said the doctor, "and I'm sorry. I'd offer my services, but I don't think you could afford me."  
  
"Try me," I said.  
  
"Fifty thousand double dollars," said the doctor, "half for the medication and half for my services."  
  
I didn't tell him that was a drop in the bucket to me, but it pretty much was. The mini-album sales had been brisk, and after just a couple of months in distribution, it had generated enough profit to fully replenish my bank account and then some.  
  
"It's a deal," I said. "But I'd like to leave this evening."  
  
"That could be arranged, but I'll need payment in advance. I have to purchase the medicines and equipment. Proper planning is paramount."  
  
"True," I said, "so you'd better start. I will send a courier with the money . You'll have it within the hour. I'll buy you a round-trip ticket and my plan is for us to leave on the evening sandsteamer.  
  
After I handled the bank business, the biggest thing still to accomplish was following up on the paperwork to claim the bounty for the three robbers. With time running out and Nick drifting in and out of consciousness, I decided to bypass the strict legalities, so I copied Nick's signature from a transmittal slip and ended up forging the power of attorney. An hour later, I picked up a check for $$200,000 and deposited it into Nick's account.  
  
With packing yet to do, and arranging for Angelina's transport I began to think that maybe I had taken on too much and got a little discouraged, but I went back to my house to pack.  
  
I saw Lenny's van parked outside the studio, and when I went in, I found Lenny, Dave, Dixie, and the rest of the band inside. Even Hot Lips was there. It looked like they had just arrived.  
  
Dixie walked straight into my arms and pulled me into a hug.  
  
"I saw it in the paper last night. You must be going out of your skull, Midvalley. I know how much you love him."  
  
There's just something so direct and disarming about Dixie, that her hug and her words hit me with the force of a hammer blow. After all the tension I'd been through and with Nick's future still so uncertain, even though I had tried hard not to, finally I couldn't help myself. I broke down and cried.  
  
The emotional storm didn't last long, and the men in the band were sensitive enough to give me some privacy while I cried myself out. I'd have done the same for them. Dixie held me the entire time, patting my back, but after some time, she started crying too, and I knew she was grieving for the husband she had lost. Fate had been kinder to me than to her. The one I loved was still alive. And with the tracks of my tears still wet on my face, I held her and comforted her as she wept and kissed her softly on the top of her head.  
  
I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Randy.  
  
"Hate to interrupt," said the musician, "but that's my job."  
  
He took the still weeping Dixie into his arms, and looked down tenderly as he embraced her and soothed her with whispered endearments.  
  
"You needed a good cry, Dixie. You've held it in so long. You always think you have to be so strong. It's okay, honey. I'm here for you."  
  
I felt their need for privacy and wanted some too, so I stepped outside onto the shaded porch and closed the door behind me. It was a little after 10 o'clock and the sun had evaporated the early morning dew. The worst of the day's heat was yet to come. I had to get into action soon and the thought agitated me.  
  
I still carried Nick's pack of cigarettes and matchbox, so I took one out, lit it and smoked it until the knots in my heart and gut started to loosen.  
  
I knew I needed to get busy again, but I couldn't push myself to do it just yet. The door behind me opened and Hot Lips stepped out.  
  
He stood with me in silence. I offered the pack of cigarettes to him. He took one and I lit it and we smoked. After a few more minutes of quiet, Hot Lips said, "We visited the hospital this morning, just after you left, and heard about your plans from Chapel's father. We thought you'd be heading back here and that maybe you could use some help."  
  
"I'm going to be away for a few weeks, and I want to make sure someone takes care of the studio and can keep the business going."  
  
"We figured as much. Sunny already talked it over with Kima, and since she's been running the disk operations for a few months, she's just going to keep doing it for a while longer, if that's okay with you."  
  
"Fine," I said.  
  
"We were surprised at the coincidence when we heard you were planning to take Chapel to December, because we've been discussing finishing the tour. After Augusta fell, everything was so screwed up, we never made it to December, but things are a little more stable now. We were actually thinking of leaving today."  
  
"Is this more Mouth of Gabriel business?"  
  
"No.well, yes. It is a coincidence, but if you're going to be in December, you should meet the intelligence cell. I heard about your new promotion. Master Legato wants you by his side. Can't say I'm surprised. Your talents are impressive."  
  
I exhaled a puff of smoke with a deep sigh.  
  
"That's a laugh."  
  
"Don't sell yourself short, Midvalley. You've got more talent than me."  
  
"Legato expects a lot." Hot Lips had no idea just how much. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Is this about you and Chapel?"  
  
"I said I don't want to talk about it."  
  
Hot Lips took inhaled a puff of smoke held it then exhaled.  
  
"Hey, Hornfreak, in my day, I was just as famous as you."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"How did you think I got my nickname, just because I blow the horn good? I knew what to do with my lips and tongue. I had as many groupies as you did."  
  
"Oh, fuck. I really don't want to hear this."  
  
"I'm trying to tell you something. I had a reputation, and then I fell in love. Just like you."  
  
I took the last drag from the cigarette, dropped the butt and extinguished it with my shoe.  
  
"I've got to get ready to go."  
  
"I fell in love with your mother."  
  
Now he had my full attention.  
  
"I knew your mother before you were born."  
  
I stiffened when I heard that.  
  
"I wasn't Mouth of Gabriel then. But I met her nearly thirty years ago. I was a traveling musician, going from one town to the next. I loved music the way you do. Then I met your mother after a long road trip. I didn't get along with my band mates back then, not the way you do, Midvalley. I was lonely and she was so beautiful. You know that.  
  
Well, as I say, I fell in love with her. I stayed in town with her every chance I got. It killed me sometimes that she slept with other men. I courted her, even asked her to marry me, but she wouldn't do it. She wanted her independence. It broke my heart. So I had to leave. I couldn't stand the way the jealousy ate at me when she had customers. I didn't come back for the longest time.  
  
By the time I did, I was part of Mouth of Gabriel, recruited by Master Knives himself. He saw my talent and found a use for it. I hope some day you'll finally meet him. As lovely as your mother was, I think Master Knives is the most beautiful creature I ever laid eyes on. He's not a man, and he is more than an angel. Even with his body broken by his brother's treachery, his power shines.  
  
His brother has chosen a dark path, and Master Knives only wants to guide him back to the path of light. He gathers about him men and women of talent to serve. I have served for more than twenty-five years.  
  
You were ten years old when I met your mother again. In her business she was well-placed to gather intelligence. So I made her one of our informants. I never stopped loving her and when I met you and started to give you lessons, I could see you had the talent too."  
  
I knew now what he was telling me. I could see it in his eyes, the same brown shade as mine. He was my father. He opened his arms to me. I stepped into them and hugged him back with a lump in my throat so thick I couldn't breathe, but only listened to the sounds in my ears as I swallowed tears with my eyes closed and heard the rustle of his jacket as he held me. It was the creaking of our shoes on the wooden porch floor that ended the moment and we separated.  
  
"Does anybody else know?" I asked him.  
  
"Dixie's seen the likeness."  
  
"Why did you decide to tell me today?"  
  
"To offer you my help and for you to know why. One of the biggest regrets in life is that I wasn't there to help your mother, but it has meant a lot to me to have you in my life.  
  
Like you, I have some healing ability. I want you to let me help you with your friend Chapel. Offer him some of my strength. I can see how important he is to you. You'd give your life to save his, I think.  
  
But I don't think you've really looked yourself in the mirror lately. You've lost weight. I've seen how ill you've been. I'm afraid if you use your healing ability too often, you'll be drained to the point of no return. Legato had your best interest at heart when he ordered your medical leave of absence.  
  
I want to help you, Midvalley. I haven't been a father to you, but I can help you with this."  
  
"Thanks. I'd like that."  
  
"But there's something else. I'm happy that you've found love, but you need to understand, where your priorities lie. Your mother was just as loyal to Knives as I was, so there wasn't a problem. It seems to me that you and your friend, Chapel have the same loyalty. Being apart was hard for your mother and me, and I know the separation from your partner will be hard, but at the risk of repeating myself, you have to know where your priorities lie.  
  
Don't let the sense that your skills are inferior to Legato's rob you of the chance to serve Knives. Your own abilities are considerable. You can meet his expectations and Legato's."  
  
I sighed again.  
  
He still didn't know what Legato expected of me and I wasn't about to enlighten him.  
  
With that we went inside and made plans with the rest of the band who were happy to help me.  
  
Lenny took charge of buying the sandsteamer tickets. Dixie helped me pack my belongings and Nick's. Dave, Randy and Hot Lips took responsibility for making sure that Angelina and the Cross Punisher made it safely to the depot storage bay. By four o'clock all of my business was finished and I was ready to go back to the hospital.  
  
When I arrived I saw that Nick was sleeping peacefully still. The Evergreen was sitting by Nick's bed, reading a leather-bound book. His bible, I thought. But when I got closer, I saw the blue print of a weapons system. Production plans for a weapon like Nick's Cross Punisher.  
  
The Evergreen closed the book.  
  
"Your friends from the band visited this morning. I trust you found them."  
  
"Yes, they helped me prepare for the journey. Have you had any word from Dr. Reed on his progress?"  
  
"Dr. Reed is a remarkably well organized man. We could use someone with his medical skills at the academy. I have offered him the job. I believe he means to take me up on the offer."  
  
"So will he be ready to leave on the sandsteamer this evening?" I asked.  
  
"Yes," responded the priest. "Dr. Reed has arranged everything with one change only. He wants to bring along a nurse. You weren't here to say yes or no, but I agreed it was a good decision."  
  
He talked on and on for awhile, a monologue that commented on the weather, trends in sandsteamer travel and the sad state of medical care in Mei City. I ignored most of it while my eyes caressed the planes of Nick's face and watched the rise and fall of his chest, but then Evergreen's tone softened and I could tell he wasn't just making conversation anymore. He was saying something true and I started to listen.  
  
"I never wanted to mollycoddle him, you know. I was always afraid if I treated him too softly, he wouldn't be ready for the worst and I wanted him to survive. I tried to be impartial, not favor him over the other students. Maybe I went too far the other way. I could see how special he was from the beginning, not talented like the rest of you, but special in his own way. That's why I adopted him. Something about him just called out to me. I wanted him to have a better life.  
  
He was average but his passion to please set him apart. I never saw anyone practice so hard or achieve so much by practice, but I could never praise him for it. I was afraid to. I thought it would make him soft. I didn't hug him much for the same reason. I think it made him sad that he thought he couldn't please me, but that didn't stop him from trying again the next day. He's always been so loyal and optimistic, part of what makes him so lovable I suppose.  
  
I know you think I'm blind to my son's welfare. After all where was I when my son was raped?"  
  
I was startled to hear him mention it.  
  
"I would not have wished what happened to him on my worst enemy. Despite the violence of his upbringing , Nicholas was in so many ways an innocent. He was so miserable that hot season, so quiet and withdrawn and I found him crying more than once. I told him not to be a baby. I didn't find out about Mazarov until after the Eagle magazine came out with the pictures of him and his gang. I felt my blindness then. You can't imagine how harsh I was with myself.  
  
And compared to me, Nicholas was the soul of mercy. After what they did to him, he didn't kill them, but he made the punishment fit the crime. What wasn't reported in the magazine was that a month later I tracked them down and killed them for what they did to my son, and I have never regretted it for an instant.  
  
Still, I was afraid the rape would affect my son's ability to his job. So, when the Drake execution was proposed, I thought it would help Nicholas overcome his fears. I knew that Drake raped his houseboys and knowing that, because of that, I suggested that Nicholas would be a good choice for the job. And so I sent him into danger.  
  
I was so proud of what he did that day. So very proud of him. I just wish that he knew I love him. I can't tell him. Now, he just gets angry when I'm around, like he hates me. I'm not a perfect father, I know."  
  
"I'm not blind, Midvalley. I know you've been good for him. And I thank you for what you did this morning. The doctor tells me that your quick action probably saved his life. Do you know why I wanted to take him back to the academy infirmary with me? Just to have him around me, to know he was safe, to be able to look at him. He's away so much now. We've grown into strangers.  
  
But you were right. You try to see what's best for him. He does love children. I think they make him happy, the hope that they represent. It was the same hope in him that made me want to adopt him. I only hope I haven't killed that thing in him that made him so special. He can't show it to me anymore."  
  
The Evergreen got up from his chair and said, "Take care of him for me, Midvalley. I'll see you in a few weeks."  
  
He left the room.  
  
I looked at my lover lying so peacefully with his eyes closed and saw a tear roll down his cheek. 


	30. The Road to December

The Road to December  
  
In retrospect, I wasn't surprised that Lenny, Hot Lips and the rest of the band made it to the depot in time to catch the evening sandsteamer. The time I spent on the road had certainly taught me how to pack to meet a deadline and it was no different for my band mates. Lenny handed me the tickets when I arrived at the station. I went to the ticket window and purchased an additional one for the nurse.  
  
Randy and Dave made sure that Nick's motorcycle and Lenny's van made it aboard the steamer as well. Kima and the band had spent the afternoon assembling more copies of our mini-album and Lenny planned to ask the steamer captain if the band could entertain in the lounge and sell the albums. The captain embraced the idea enthusiastically, hoping it would keep the passengers from worrying about possible attacks by outlaws. There had been reports of gangs raiding sandsteamers passing through the badlands three days east of Mei City.  
  
Nick was unconscious when the ambulance arrived at the depot. Two orderlies carried him on a stretcher up the stairs and down the corridors to the fairly large suite on the steamer that I had booked for our use. As careful as they tried to be with him, a certain amount of jostling and bumping went on, and I began to curse myself for my stupidity thinking how badly it might have hurt him had he been conscious.  
  
Dr. Reed sensed my discomfort. "I gave him a sedative before we left. He's feeling no pain. Don't feel bad about moving him. It was a good decision under the circumstances."  
  
When Nick was settled with the nurse in attendance and the sandsteamer under way, I went to the café lounge for coffee. Dr. Reed was there. He had obviously had experience in moving wounded and I asked him how he came by it.  
  
"I was a cavalry doctor for a number of years, baptized in the blood of the Outlaw War that broke out in the aftermath of July. I saw a lot of wounds to lungs, guts, arms and legs. I've done enough amputations that I never want to do another. That's how I gained my experience in transporting wounded."  
  
"I'm grateful for my partner's sake," I said. "I was just a child back then. I had nightmares about July for months afterward. I still have them from time to time."  
  
"Those were desperate times" said the surgeon. " I think the worst thing I witnessed was the suffering of women and children, so many lives stunted by starvation and malnutrition. Some days it seems to me that civilization has made some progress and then the emergency room fills up and my faith in humanity is tested again.  
  
Now it's all gunshots and knife wounds. I'm glad it's not my job to sort out the innocent from the guilty. Some days, I see victims of crimes so vicious, I think I'd like to kill whoever committed them. I try to be impartial, but some days are harder than others."  
  
"That's surely the truth," I agreed. It was just that kind of a day for me.  
  
"Your friend, Mr. Wolfwood, certainly kept the hospital staff busy during the quick draw tournament. Nobody died from gunshot wounds that day, but he wounded more than fifty and I'm sure he could have killed them if he'd wanted to. I saw the corpses of the robbers and where his bullets hit them. He's an expert marksman, isn't he?"  
  
"I've never seen better," I replied.  
  
There was a lull in the conversation and I brought up a subject I'd been curious about.  
  
"I heard that Vash the Stampede was one of the contestants," I said.  
  
"That's true," replied the doctor. "I saw the whole tournament. There were a lot of rumors flying about your friend and Vash the Stampede. One of our nurses has breakfast at a little diner not far from the hospital and that's where she saw your partner and Vash the Stampede, the day before the tournament. She said they seemed to be on very friendly terms, buddy- buddy was the phrase she used, with arms around each other, that sort of thing, the day before the contest. Then when the tournament ended up as a draw, there was gossip that the two of them set-up the whole thing to claim the fifty thousand double dollar prize for first place. But having seen your partner's ability, I think he or the outlaw probably would have won regardless.  
  
An orderly told me that he overheard some girls from Bernardelli Insurance saying that the Mayor had threatened to kill a young boy and his family if Mr. Wolfwood didn't finish off Vash the Stampede."  
  
"Finish him off? I didn't know it was supposed to be a gunfight to the death?! Jesus Christ, he could have been killed! This is Vash the Stampede we're talking about. Still, if a child was in danger, it would upset my partner no end. He donates most of his income to supporting an orphanage near the city of December."  
  
"Come to think of it," Dr. Reed resumed, "I did hear your partner shout out something about not letting any more children be harmed, and to know that he helps support an orphanage makes me glad I did a good job on his stitches. I'm very fond of children. I see them as our hope for the future."  
  
When I thought of my hope for the future, the immediate one was that Nick would recover from his wound. I asked the doctor how my partner was progressing.  
  
"He's doing as well as can be expected following a traumatic injury. I expect he won't be doing much for the duration of the trip except resting. He is on a heavy course of antibiotics to keep infection under control. Rest will help him heal.  
  
Speaking of rest, Mr. Midvalley, you ought to get some yourself. You'll do your partner no good when you get to your destination if you're ill. I could not help noticing that you look exhausted."  
  
"I thank you for your concern, but I'm more worried about my partner at the moment. You may have met my father, Kenny McCoy, at the hospital?"  
  
"Ah, yes, the famous trumpet player, " said the doctor. "What about him?"  
  
"In addition to his talent with the trumpet, my father has some modest healing ability. I trust you won't be upset if he uses that skill on my partner, will you?"  
  
"I've heard of such things, of course. I'm sure at the very least the contact will be harmless. If your partner gains any benefit at all from the action, so much the better. I have no objections, but I must repeat, you should get some rest."  
  
Truth to tell, I was exhausted by the rigors of the past months.  
  
"I thank you for your interest in my health, but I'm going to go visit my partner now," I said and took my leave. When I got to Nick's suite, I found that he was still under the influence of the narcotic he had been given to ease his transfer from the hospital to the steamer.  
  
I greeted the nurse who was caring for him. Her name was Ruby McQueen. I couldn't help thinking when I met her that her name would have fit better on a saloon chanteuse. Lord knows she was pretty enough to be one. She had long, wavy golden-brown hair, limpid blue eyes, and under her nurse's concealing garments, quite an attractive body. She was a little above average height.  
  
Nick stirred in his sleep, saw the nurse through half-closed eyes and muttered in a groggy voice, "Millie, what are you doing here, my honey?"  
  
"My name is Ruby," said the nurse.  
  
"S'funny," Nick slurred, "look so much like her." and then he drifted into sleep again.  
  
I smiled to myself. So Nick had met a pretty woman on his trip and had gotten to the flirting stage with her. One of the insurance girls maybe?  
  
This cheerful thought was followed by one not nearly as pleasant. Even before my conversation with Dr. Reed, the memory of Nick saying the name "Vash" during his delirium, had more than once given me a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. Now what the surgeon had just told me about their being buddy-buddy, arms around each other's shoulders made me nearly sick with jealousy.  
  
But how could I doubt Nick's love for me? The man had nearly died because he risked his life to save mine. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of gratitude and resolved that I would not let jealousy poison my love for him.  
  
There was a knock on the door of the sandsteamer. It was Hot Lips McCoy, my father. The small suite was tolerable with three people in it, but with four and the set-up of tubes feeding into Nick's arms taking up additional space, it was downright claustrophobic. The close quarters were making me nervous, but I knew that Hot Lips was there to do some healing on Nick and I wanted to stay. I wondered what the nurse, Ruby, would make of it.  
  
I introduced the two and explained to Ruby why McCoy was there. She looked skeptical but said nothing.  
  
"Could I have a chair?" asked McCoy. Ruby offered hers and came to sit beside me on the cushioned bench. My father sat down by Nick, closed his eyes and fell into a meditative state. He began to breathe rhythmically and deeply, and I could feel the power growing in him. Then he reached out, put one hand on Nick's heart, the other over the wound in his side and sat in total concentration. His years as a trumpeter had given him abnormal lung capacity and breath control. I could see Nick's color improve as McCoy dug into his reserves of psionic power and gave freely.  
  
After a few more minutes of this Hot Lips looked exhausted and diminished. He broke contact with Nick's body and sunk his head into his hands.  
  
"I'm going to be sick, Midvalley," he whispered in a husk of a voice. His legs were shaky so I helped him over to the lavatory cubicle in the compartment and watched compassionately as he retched up bile. The contractions continued to rack his body for a minute. When he recovered a little, I helped him back to his seat. He closed his eyes. I knew he had a bad headache and I wanted to reach out and ease it for him, but when he felt my touch he said, "No, Midvalley. Don't do it. Rest yourself. I'll take some pain pills."  
  
I had some handy so I poured a glass of water for him and gave him the medicine. In a few minutes, he was stronger. I walked him back to his compartment and settled him in his berth.  
  
"Will you be all right?" I asked him.  
  
"I'll play my trumpet a little later and be better than ever. Will you join us for a jam in the lounge later?"  
  
"Maybe. Get some rest.and thank you."  
  
When I got back to Nick's suite, it was to hear Nick talking to Ruby. I listened outside for a minute.  
  
".and the baby's name is Katie?" asked Nick. "Someone must want to volunteer to give her a good home."  
  
He sounded vibrant and passionate.  
  
"That's just the problem, Father Wolfwood, no one does. She's the daughter of a whore and the respectable women in the town don't want to have anything to do with her. 'Blood will out,' I heard one woman say."  
  
"That's just stupid. The baby's not responsible. It's just a baby," Nick sighed. "There's an orphanage in December that would be happy to take her, and find her a place in a good family where she would get more attention. "  
  
"I've been tempted to take her, myself," said the nurse, "but then reality sets in. I barely make enough money to support myself and then the shifts that I work.I'd have to find someone to take care of her while I'm at work. I can't see any way to do it."  
  
"You've got a beautiful heart, Ruby, but you're absolutely right. There's no way you can take care of her. She'll be better off in December. I can pay for the transportation.but we'll talk about the details later."  
  
I knocked on the door and entered.  
  
Nick had color in his face again and not from the flush of fever.  
  
"God, you look so much better," I said with a smile of relief.  
  
"I feel better. Ruby was telling me what a quack she thought Hot Lips was until she saw what he did. Made a believer out of her. She told me he was really sick afterwards. Why did he go to all that trouble for me? He hardly knows me, Midvalley."  
  
"He didn't do it for you. He did it for me."  
  
"An old friend of yours?" Nick asked almost shyly.  
  
I knew he was wondering if Hot Lips had been a sexual partner.  
  
"He's my father, Nick."  
  
Nick nodded thoughtfully and then seemed jolted by the revelation.  
  
"Well, that explains a lot. Your eyes are the same," he said and he looked at me so fondly, my heart started to flip-flop and I had to sit down I was so weak in the knees.  
  
Then the nurse addressed me.  
  
" If it's all right with you, I'd like to get some coffee in the café lounge, Mr. Midvalley. I think that Father Wolfwood looks well enough that I can leave for a while."  
  
"By all means, take a break. I'll get Dr. Reed if an emergency comes up," I replied.  
  
Ruby left and then Nick and I were alone again.  
  
I moved over to the chair next to him. He held out his right hand to me and I took it gently.  
  
"I was worried about you," I said.  
  
"Now you know what it feels like," he said with a faint smile.  
  
"In spades, partner."  
  
"Is it true we're going to December, Midvalley? Is it a new assignment for you?"  
  
"No, not really. While they operated on you, I got to thinking about what made me feel better after the concussion, and it was doing something I love. I thought about what would make you feel better and I know what you love, so I thought the Orleans Orphanage would be the best place for you."  
  
"That was thoughtful, Midvalley, but how is it that you know so much about the place? Did my father tell you?"  
  
"No, when I brought you to the hospital, a nurse gave me your jacket to hold. I was so nervous I wanted a cigarette to relax. While I was digging around to find your matches, a fund transmittal receipt fell on the floor. I couldn't help noticing that it was made out to the orphanage. Then I got curious, snooped a little and found the rest."  
  
Nick slid his hand out of mind and tried to sit up. He groaned in pain and said with an edge to his voice, "I was trying to keep my involvement quiet."  
  
"So shoot me. I know that you've played it close to the chest, but I am your partner and the clues were piling up. And as far as keeping your relationship to the orphanage quiet, surely you know your father has no secrets from Legato and Leonof. If you think they aren't aware of how every c-cent that they pay us is spent, you're living in a fool's paradise, my friend."  
  
Nick sighed heavily and said nothing for a minute, "I'm sure you're right, Midvalley. There are some things I haven't wanted to admit to myself. I just hope that they never try to use my love of the children against me."  
  
I could tell that Nick was very upset at the thought and I mentally kicked myself for my insensitivity. But I thought of something that would cheer him up.  
  
"I can't imagine that would ever happen. But I have another confession to make," I said with a smile anticipating his pleased surprise.  
  
"Really?" said Nick.  
  
"Worse than smoking your cigarettes and going through your pockets," I said.  
  
"I would have let you have the cigarettes," said Nick.  
  
I reached into my jacket pocket for my wallet, pulled out a bank deposit slip and handed it to him.  
  
"This is a deposit to my bank account," said Nick. "Two hundred thousand double dollars," he breathed and looked at me with incomprehension, and then started to flush with anger again.  
  
"What are you mad about now, Nick?"  
  
"I didn't expect you to pay me for saving your life."  
  
"Don't be angry with me, Nick. That isn't it. You don't understand."  
  
"Understand what?" he asked. He sounded annoyed and I could tell he was getting tired.  
  
'You earned it," I rushed to say. "There was a bounty out on the three you killed that night for $$200,000. I had to forge your name on a request for power of attorney so that I could get the paperwork done. It's your money. I didn't think you'd get so pissed off about it. But just for your information, I'd do it again."  
  
"I'm not mad," Nick mumbled and then murmured to himself, "Two hundred thousand double dollars.that will keep us afloat for quite a long while."  
  
Finally I got the reaction I'd been looking for and he smiled at me, the same fond smile that had my heart doing flip-flops when the nurse was there.  
  
"I can't believe you forged my name."  
  
"Just tell me you forgive me."  
  
"You know I do. How many more of your talents are you hiding from me?"  
  
"Just that one."  
  
"This will do so much for the children."  
  
Nick got very quiet for a couple of minutes and he reached out his hand for mine again. He sighed in relief when we were touching again.  
  
"Thanks for everything. I'm in your debt again," he said.  
  
"You saved my life, Nick. I remember you telling me a long time ago that you'd pay me back. I'd say you did and then some."  
  
"I want to ." he began to say.  
  
I felt through the link just to make sure I knew what he wanted. I sat on the edge of his bed, leaned down and brushed his lips with a tender kiss.  
  
"That's it," he said with a husky whisper and kissed me back.  
  
"I love you, Midvalley," he said softly.  
  
"I love you, too, Nick," I said and I kissed him again.  
  
He fell asleep with my lips on his. I looked down at his peaceful face and smiled. The jealousy I had harbored for Vash the Stampede had vanished with a kiss and a phrase leaving contentment in its wake. I knew I was doing the right thing taking Nick to December.  
  
Ruby came back in a few minutes and felt his forehead. I looked at Nick's wound when she checked the skin under the bandages. The area was still mottled and livid with bruises, but it looked better than the last time I'd seen it.  
  
"Your father is a miracle worker. I've heard about healing like that before but never would have believed it was possible if I hadn't seen it for myself," she said.  
  
Dr. Reed entered and then the place just seemed too crowded. I went back to my sleeping quarters, snagged Silvia, and walked to the lounge compartment. I heard the band in full swing before I entered. Hot Lips' forehead was sheened with sweat as his golden trumpet blared out a sizzling counterpoint to Toby's bass. He looked fully recovered from his healing session. I went to the bar, ordered a brandy, then found a seat by Dixie, who was tapping her feet as the band swung into the chorus of "Head over Heels." I could tell she was missing her keyboard. I smiled and sat down next to her.  
  
"Hey, Midvalley. You look a lot better, so I guess that Nick must be feeling better too."  
  
I couldn't help smiling when I thought back to the tender kiss we had shared.  
  
"That's one heck of a smile, Midvalley, and I don't think I need an explanation.  
  
"No, no, Dixie, it's nothing like that. I'm just glad Nick is feeling better. He sat up and talked for a while, but he got tired and is sleeping now. Dr. Reed is checking his condition and adjusting his medication."  
  
"So you're taking a break from the sick room."  
  
"It gets a little crowded in there, and I miss playing Silvia," I said.  
  
"I wish my piano was more portable," said Dixie. "I brought along my harmonica but I'm taking a break."  
  
"You taking a break? That's unusual. You must be upset about something."  
  
"The last song they played before this one was "Serenade" and sometimes the lyrics get to me.. Randy fills the emptiness, but I still find myself crying over my husband at the oddest times. It hasn't been a year since Henry died and the wound is still fresh."  
  
I sighed in sympathy, as I thought ahead to my new assignment. The months I'd spent separated from Nick had been one of the worst periods in my life. In a little less than three weeks, I would be separated from him again for God knows how long.  
  
"You seem a little upset yourself, Midvalley. Chapel is going to be all right, isn't he?"  
  
"He's better. It's just that in a few weeks, I'll have to leave and I don't know when I'll see him again."  
  
"Or if you'll see him again," she spoke the hard, blunt truth. "That's how it was for me with Henry. I was only gone for a short tour. Two weeks, and when I got back he'd been dead and buried a week and a half. I never saw him again."  
  
"That puts my concerns into perspective. Nick's alive. I suppose that I shouldn't complain."  
  
"Why don't you just quit your other job? You making so much money from the music, you don't really need more income, do you? Then you could spend more time together."  
  
"I wish it were that easy, but people are counting on me."  
  
Legato's face came to mind when I thought of who was counting on me most.  
  
The somber tone of the conversation had begun to put me into an emotional tailspin.  
  
"In other words, they won't let you quit."  
  
I couldn't respond to that so I unfastened the clips of Silvia's case, pulled her out, slipped the strap over my neck and stepped up next to Hot Lips. I joined in on the chorus of 'Hell and Damnation'. The song fit my present mood exactly. Silvia wailed and moaned my blues. Soon I was in a horn duel with Hot Lips who gave me a side-long glance, raised an eyebrow, then upped the ante with a hot jazz lick that drew a delighted, 'Oh, yeah!' from Lenny. Not to be outdone, I came back with an string of notes like ripping silk that slipped higher and higher until Silvia peaked in an agonized scream. I held that note at a fever pitch, then let it fade away as Lenny finished with thundering tom-toms and crashing cymbals.  
  
I hadn't noticed that the lounge had filled up, but the room erupted in applause, cheers and wolf whistles when the piece was done. Lenny gave me a thumbs up, Hot Lips wiped the sweat from his brow with his red bandana, flung an arm around me, and took a bow with me. I couldn't help smiling. Playing helped me clear my head and put my worries in perspective. Even new assignments couldn't separate the two of us forever. With Mouth of Gabriel business, I was sure I could find a way to see Nick more often. And there were always vacations.  
  
We played three more songs at white-heat intensity, then with my mood restored, I packed up Silvia and headed back to see Nick before I went to bed.  
  
He was throwing up into a basin that Ruby held under his mouth.  
  
"Oh, God help me," I moaned, sick with this new worry.  
  
"Is it from the infection again?" I asked Dr. Reed who was slowly injecting the contents of a hypodermic into a vein in Nick's arm.  
  
"No, whatever kind of healing your father did cleared up most of the inflammation but the narcotic has worn off and Mr. Wolfwood is in pain from his wound."  
  
In less than a minute, the expression of agony on Nick's face eased into peaceful relaxation, his head rolled back onto his pillow. He sighed in relief and I exhaled the breath I had been holding.  
  
"Are you feeling better, Mr. Wolfwood?" asked the surgeon.  
  
"Yes," Nick responded drowsily.  
  
"Are you hungry at all?"  
  
"No, I don't think I could keep anything down right now."  
  
"You've had vomiting from the infection, then from the anesthetic we used during your surgery, and now the nausea is from pain. It should pass by tomorrow morning, I think, and we can see about getting you up and about, but for now, just rest."  
  
Nick fell asleep. I sat with him for a while. The fever he experienced in the hospital had burned flesh from his already lean face and body, but I had a hunch as I felt for him through our link that he was on the mend. I felt a weight lift from my heart.  
  
It had been a long day, so I went to my compartment, undressed, crawled under the covers and was so hammered by fatigue that sleep took me instantly and I dreamed.  
  
I am walking through the desert with a sky of midnight blue, hung with stars. The moons shine bright as silver. I look up at the fifth moon and see that it has a demon's eye like Dominique's and the moon asks,  
  
"Why, Midvalley?"  
  
I don't know what to answer but hear a rattle at my feet, look down and see Legato sprawled naked writhing sinuous as a snake. His mouth opens and his serpent's tongue flicks and he hisses, "Sssuck you, Ssssssax-man?"  
  
I tell him no, but golden eyes hold me mesmerized. I sense that I am naked while the snake's tongue laves my cock. I tell him no, but it feels so good I don't want it to stop, the feel of the split tongue like two sucking at once excites me. No, I moan. No, I beg as the sensations grow more intense. NO! I scream in ecstasy as the white snake sprays its venom and my eyes roll back in my head.  
  
A heartbeat later, the world shifts and we walk together, just the two of us on the narrow ridge that spans two chasms.  
  
The night wind blows as Legato dressed in white like the purest of angels stands on the edge of the precipice. He holds out his hand to me and smiles as the skull tied to his sleeve smiles and I step back.  
  
"Don't be afraid."  
  
"Life is pleasure," says the blue moon.  
  
"Life is pain," says the red moon.  
  
"Death is the cure," says the pink moon.  
  
"Death is pleasure," says the white moon.  
  
The fifth moon wears the demons eye, and "Jump," is what it says.  
  
The abyss beckons. The power of the demon's eye moves me to the edge and I feel the upswept wind from the chasm on my brow.  
  
I hear voices calling from below.  
  
"Midvalley," says my mother.  
  
"Come and play," the children cry.  
  
"Jump," says Dominique.  
  
"Just the two of us," sighs Legato at my elbow. "We can end the pain."  
  
I begin to think I should. Just jump. Just fly. Just die. The wind is warm and I'll fly like a bird until I die. I tense my thighs and prepare to dive, but hear a whisper on the wind, "Midvalley," that stops me. I turn and see Nick. He extends his right hand to me. In his left hand he holds a beating heart. My chest throbs in rhythm with the heart he holds. When I put my hand in his, it feels like going home, the nightmare moon's demons eye shatters into shards and I am safe. 


	31. Into the Badlands

Into the Badlands  
  
Nick got out of bed next morning and moved about for a bit with the tubes that fed antibiotics and painkillers into his veins still attached to his arm. After the nurse bathed and shaved him, he finally ate some solid food-eggs and toast--and managed to keep it down. But by ten in the morning, the few things he'd done exhausted him and by 10:30, when I looked in on him again, he had dozed off.  
  
I went to the fifth floor café and had an omelet and coffee. The observation window displayed a panorama of sand hills and limestone of a wearisome sameness that tired my eyes and my mind. Since my worries about Nick's well-being had eased, the doctor's suggestion that I get some rest began to seem more and more desirable. I hadn't slept well the night before, and Hot Lips and Dixie both commented on how tired I looked. Dave and Lenny breezed in for brunch looking at peace with the world.  
  
"You look like shit, Hornfreak," said Lenny. "If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you'd been the one who got shot. We're going to play in the saloon lounge tonight, why don't you get some sack time and join us for a rehearsal at seven? Jason found this great corridor down near the boiler room. The acoustics are out of this world."  
  
With so much advice and my own eyes slipping shut to betray me, I didn't bother finishing my coffee, but agreed to rehearse, mumbled good-byes, took the stairs back down to my room and went to bed. The steady thrum of the sandsteamer engine lulled me to sleep in no time.  
  
I woke up a little after 4 in the afternoon, awakened by the sudden quiet when the engine that drove the steamer stopped. I heard the captain announce that we had arrived in September for a two-hour layover.  
  
I felt well-rested. After I washed up, I checked in on Nick. He was still conked out, so I walked out to one of the observation points on the first floor to watch the stevedores off-load freight and see what passengers might be boarding. There were about fifty cavalry troopers milling around armed with rifles, but they snapped into ranks when their sergeant hollered, "Attention!"  
  
As they marched onto the steamer, I wondered if they were traveling to a new post or if they'd been assigned to provide extra protection from bandits.  
  
I was a little surprised to see Hot Lips among those passengers boarding the vessel. He caught my eye, waved and in a few more minutes, joined me by the railing.  
  
"You look better, Midvalley," he said.  
  
"What have you been up to?" I asked.  
  
"Just a little business. I met with one of the cell informants to see if there was any news on the whereabouts of Vash the Stampede, but no one's seen hide nor hair of him.  
  
"Any explanation why a platoon of cavalry troopers joined us?"  
  
"The rumor is that a gang of thieves is planning to rob the sandsteamer."  
  
"It would take a real fool to try that," I said. "Or someone as daring as Brilliant Dynamites Neon. But I wonder just how brilliant he really is. His last attempt ended in failure."  
  
Hot Lips said, "I heard that Vash the Stampede was on that steamer. From what I know of him, the best laid plans seem to get fucked up beyond all belief when he's around. But Neon isn't in the area at the moment. Two new gangs are operating in the badlands, one called the Sand Vipers and the other gang is The Sons of Augusta. That's all the information the Mouth of Gabriel has at the moment."  
  
"I've been curious about the organization, especially since you told me my mother was an informant," I said with a serious look at my father. "She died so long ago. There must be a lot of history. I'd like to know something about the organization I'm serving, if it's not asking too much."  
  
"Have you ever heard of Hiro Jigenzan?" my father asked.  
  
"I met a man named Rai-dei the Blade, who had been trained at the Jigenzan School of Bushido," I said.  
  
"Rai-dei the Blade was something of a renegade in the eyes of Jigenzan," said Hot Lips.  
  
"I hadn't heard anything about that," I commented.  
  
"The Jigenzan School lies about 1000 iles north of the ruins of July," Hot Lips began. "Hiro Jigenzan, the founder, was a scientist, a poet, an artist and a fully realized master of bushido, the way of the warrior, but he was a warrior who believed in peace. He was one of the original travelers who cold-slept his way from Earth to Planet Gunsmoke and part of the team that helped to develop the energy plants. He wasn't aware until much later that he took a very different view of plant development than his fellow scientists."  
  
"Though the climate of this planet was harsh, Jigenzan believed that with time and patience, humankind and plantkind would eventually live together in a beautiful symbiosis. A new Eden could be created where the two species could live in perfect harmony. But Hiro Jigenzan's view was a minority opinion, and the other scientists moved forward with plans to exploit the sentient plants. Jigenzan refused to be party to what he considered enslavement. He was also appalled by the violence and lawlessness that followed in the wake of the Seeds ships crash landings and decided to form his own small colony based on spiritual precepts, rather than ruthless pragmatism."  
  
"He was a brilliant man who developed the dew farms that provided much of the water before the energy plants became fully operational. His fellow scientists felt dew farms were a waste of time when plants could be exploited to provide water. He preached against plant abuse, gained a small band of devoted followers and set off into the wilderness, with some plant offshoots and some old technology to create his Eden. Midvalley, I have seen it. It's not Eden but it's close, plants and humans living in near perfect equilibrium with no enslavement."  
  
"It sounds beautiful," I said, "but what part does the Mouth of Gabriel play in all this?"  
  
"Jigenzan founded the Mouth of Gabriel because he believed in justice enough to want to right a wrong. The plants that live in the protective globes of the energy bulbs have been genetically altered against their will so that they cannot survive outside the core. There are other plants who have evolved beyond the genetic manipulation. Master Knives has attained that higher state of evolution, far beyond humankind in intellect, power, creativity and life span. Jigenzan believe that plants are divine creatures and founded the Mouth of Gabriel to spread that truth and to work to help Master Knives free his brethren from slavery."  
  
"And what is Vash the Stampede's place in all this?" I wanted to know.  
  
"We believe that Vash the Stampede shares his brother's divinity but it is because he chooses to resist his brother that our planet is torn with strife and bloodshed and why plants are still enslaved. We of the Mouth of Gabriel believe that when the brothers are reunited, a new Eden will be formed and an era of peace and plenty will follow. We are willing to sacrifice our lives to attain this Eden."  
  
"You make it sound like a religion."  
  
"It is," said Hot Lips.  
  
"I've never considered myself a religious man. I don't believe in God, or heaven or hell. If I believe in anything at all, it's good music," I said with a shake of my head.  
  
"The question you must ask yourself is do you believe in Master Knives." Hot Lips said.  
  
"I have the utmost respect for Master Knives and I serve him to the best of my ability."  
  
"He is aware and has taken note of your abilities. That is why he wants you at Legato's side and why he asked me to recruit you into the Mouth of Gabriel."  
  
"Master Knives wanted me? It wasn't just a request from Legato?" I was very surprised to hear that.  
  
"The order came from Master Knives," Hot Lips assured me. "There is more I would like to tell you, but I can only share the information with you if you elect to become a fully initiated member of the Mouth of Gabriel."  
  
"Initiation sounds formal. It's a little off-putting," I said.  
  
"It is a baptism of sorts, and necessary security for your fellow members."  
  
"Give me some time to decide. This is all pretty sudden. I know I will have some questions for you about it later," I said.  
  
"Of course, but I'm sure you'll come to a decision soon and you won't regret it," Hot Lips finished. He seemed to have no doubt that I would choose to be initiated. I felt tempted to say yes, then and there, but decided to sleep on it for a few days, at least until Nick was feeling better.  
  
"You've given me a lot to think about," I said. "I'll see you later tonight at rehearsal."  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
I went back to check on Nick. He was still sleeping. The color in his face was much better.  
  
"He finished eating a little while ago. He was up for about a half an hour and asked for you," said Ruby.  
  
I was sorry I'd missed visiting with him, but I could tell the rest he was getting was doing him good. I decided it was time to take care of some personal business.  
  
There was a laundry and tailoring service on board. I took some shirts, socks and other articles to be washed and I wanted to see if they could get the bloodstains out of my suit and Nick's.  
  
"Do you think the tailor can mend the bullet holes in these trousers?" I asked the girl on duty at the counter as I handed her the black pants from Nick's suit.  
  
"Don't worry, Mister. Our tailor, Murray, is a genius at invisible mending and our new sonic stain removers work even on dried blood. You'll never know there had been a bullet hole in the pants by the time he gets finished with them," she assured me.  
  
I went to the barber sharp to get a shave and a haircut and asked the shoe- shine boy on duty to polish my wingtips.  
  
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully.  
  
I met the band for practice in the corridor with the great acoustics that Jason had found. We had a blast playing around. Dixie's harmonica sounded fabulous. We finally got so worked up, we went up to the lounge to entertain and earned a nice chunk of double dollars when we passed the hat.  
  
Dave sold a lot of mini albums for us, but had to practically beat off the attractive women who wanted to take him to their sleeping berths. We quit a little after midnight. I went to bed soon after, slept well and woke up the next morning, just as the steamer was pulling into October.  
  
I went to check on Nick first thing. He was still in some pain  
  
"Can I get you anything, Nick," I asked him.  
  
"A new body would be nice," he joked. "This one hurts too much."  
  
Despite his humorous tone I could tell he was serious, but he added, "I really don't need anything, but the pain eases and I feel better when I can sleep. I can feel the wound healing."  
  
"Rest is the best thing for Mr. Wolfwood, right now," said Dr. Reed.  
  
On the two-hour layover in October, the steamer off-loaded some passengers and a number of armored vehicles. Among the freight to be loaded was a herd of some ten tomases that refused to cooperate with their wrangler. One of the tomases was in heat, and the aggressive head-butting of the studs had a number of passengers betting on the outcome.  
  
Hot Lips had made another brief trip off the steamer to see if there had been any sign of Vash the Stampede, but the response from the cell in the city of October was negative.  
  
The wrangler ruined a lot of wagers when he tranquilized the rowdy animals.  
  
I went up to the casino to have a brandy in the bar. I watched some of the hard-core gamblers play poker for a while. It looked like some of them had been up all night. I was never much of a betting man myself, I thought as I sipped my drink. Nick was the only one who could get me to play cards. The only game I cared to play with him was strip poker, but then that was a game where it didn't seem to matter which of us got the best hand. We both ended up winning, I recalled with a smile.  
  
By lunchtime, I was bored enough to flip through some old newspapers and magazines that I found in the reading room. A sandsteamer picked up papers from all over. There were copies of the September Sentinel, the November Daily News, The October Tribune, Mei City Times and the December Star, not to mention, the filthiest rag on the planet, The Daily Dish.  
  
There were several illustrated articles in the Dish on Vash the Stampede. He was certainly photogenic I had to admit. I didn't know many people who could carry off a spiked hairstyle like his or that long flowing red coat without looking ridiculous. I tried to imagine myself in the same outfit and failed.  
  
"Murderer or Misunderstood" read one headline. That article rehashed the destruction of July and August and provided a couple of eyewitness accounts of how on other occasions, Vash the Stampede kept a plant from blowing up and put a greedy water baron out of business. The article couldn't decide whether to peg him as evil incarnate or a latter-day Robin Hood.  
  
If the editors of the Dish paid their so-called witnesses enough money they could get any story they wanted, I decided. I shook my head, flipped the page and saw an ad for the Midvalley Seven with Kenny McCoy. It was an old one from a couple of months ago. I flipped another few pages and saw a small picture of me. I looked like hell. The caption read, "Plotzed at the Mei Queen."  
  
I read the accompanying article.  
  
"Friends of music gave us this tasty tidbit about Midvalley the Hornfreak, aka the Sax God. The, switch-hitting musician, troubled by rumors that he murdered music rival, Skip Walker, was reportedly drunk as a skunk at the May Queen Club, so drunk he fainted and couldn't perform."  
  
That was total crap. I had one drink and even though I was sick I finished the set. I continued reading.  
  
"There were reports that he was drunk and disorderly in clubs from May City to November. What's the real reason that the scheduled tour to December was cancelled? The destruction of the City of Augusta was a good cover, but ask anybody. the real reason was, that Midvalley the Hornfreak's drinking problem is so bad.  
  
"He blacked out," said one anonymous source in October, " and not more than a few minutes later, I saw him puking his guts out in the can. I just wish he'd sober up. He used to be so good. Now he's a joke."  
  
Used to be-I'm better now than I ever was, I thought. I wondered where the hell they were getting their stories. I had gotten sick, but it wasn't from drinking. The story sounded factual but it was an out and out lie.  
  
I threw the magazine back down on the table in exasperation. But with nothing better to do, I picked up a month-old copy of the Mei City Times. It couldn't be as offensive as what I'd just read.  
  
This copy had a little story about Vash the Stampede and the Quick Draw tournament with a mention of Nicholas D. Wolfwood. I flipped to the back page to finish the reading the article only to find that someone had ripped out a coupon for hemorrhoid cream and the part of the story that featured Nick was missing.  
  
In another newspaper I found a story that speculated about the fall of Augusta. The facts were wrong as usual, so I turned the page and came upon a new piece of gossip.  
  
"Mei City resident, Midvalley the Hornfreak was recently spotted in Augusta in the company of a blue-haired Adonis. The couple, allegedly in the pay of the very private multi-billionaire, the mysterious Knives Millions, recently shared a room in the Grand Hotel.  
  
"And that's not all they shared," reported a waitress who asked that we withhold her name. "When I went up to deliver the whipped cream and cherries they ordered, they were just too busy doing something else to come to the door. From the moaning and groaning and the bedsprings squeaking, there was obviously a lot of service going on in there already, if you know what I mean."  
  
"We know," the article finished.  
  
I shook my head in wonder at the imagination of the writer of the article and I wondered what Nick would think if he read lies like that about me. Completely disgusted, I flung the paper down and headed back to see how he was feeling.  
  
He was just getting back in bed, his forehead dripping from the exertion of moving around in his weakened condition.  
  
"Are you okay, Nick? Can I get you something?" I asked him.  
  
"He was doing great, but he got tired," said Ruby.  
  
"I'm not tired. A couple of packs of Black Kat cigarettes, an ash tray, and some black coffee will fix what ails me," he growled. "And I told you that three times already."  
  
"I'll be back soon," I said and chuckled to myself as I hurried off to a kiosk to get him what he wanted. If he wanted black coffee and cigarettes, he was surely on the mend and that relieved me no end.  
  
Nick was still awake when I got back and once I got his cigarette lit and he had smoked enough to begin to relax, I asked "Is there someone from the orphanage that we can contact to meet us at the sandsteamer in December?"  
  
"No one in town," he responded slowly, "but if you send a wire, they should get it in a couple of days."  
  
"Why a couple of days?"  
  
"The orphanage is a little further out."  
  
"I thought the orphanage was in the city. "  
  
"That's just where we have our post office box."  
  
"Oh, so you're outside the city limits."  
  
"You could say that."  
  
I didn't like the look he had on his face when he said it.  
  
"Just where is your orphanage located?" I asked.  
  
"It's about 300 iles southwest of December."  
  
"300 iles?!" I exclaimed. "Fuck!"  
  
The trip was going to take a lot longer than I had anticipated.  
  
"Hey, it keeps the kids out of harm's way," Nick said. "December is a pretty dangerous city. It's much safer at the orphanage and the distance involved actually makes us a lot more prudent about spending."  
  
"The question is how do we get there?" I interrupted. I had the feeling that he could have given me chapter and verse on the benefits of the orphanage location, but at the moment I was only interested in how we were going to get there.  
  
"Well, December is every bit as metropolitan as Mei City. We could rent a van, or maybe Lenny would let you borrow his."  
  
"Not a bad idea," I said with a quirk of my eyebrows.  
  
"Midvalley, is there any chance I could get my clothes back soon?" Nick asked. "Ruby told me you took them to be cleaned. I want to be wearing my suit when the children see me. I'd rather they didn't see me looking sick."  
  
"I'll pick them up today," I said.  
  
"Thanks for doing that for me, partner," he said as he extinguished the butt of his smoke, "and for the cigarettes." Despite the cup of black coffee, Nick could barely keep his eyes open. He tried to stifle his yawns, but in a few minutes, he nodded off.  
  
I went to the cleaners and picked up the laundry. Nick's suit looked good as new. My light-weight chartreuse double-breasted suit had the faintest shadow stain on it, and I wondered if I should just live with the discoloration or try to get it re-dyed. I decided to live with it for the moment. It was barely noticeable. I brought Nick's suit back to his room. He was still resting so I handed the suit to Ruby.  
  
Just a half an hour later, the sandsteamer arrived in November. While the steamer took on freight and passengers, I swung by my compartment to pick up Silvia and joined the band in the lounge. Everyone was eating dinner. I bought a bowl of chili and crackers and ate it while I listened to Lenny talk about concert prospects in December.  
  
"A friend of mine who works the satellite broadcast has been doing publicity for us. Things have been quiet since Augusta, but we should get a pretty decent turn-out he told me. We've got some dates at private clubs and with luck we can rent the armory and get a big weekend crowd."  
  
I listened absently. I had a lot on my mind with what Hot Lips had told me about the plants and the Mouth of Gabriel. The knowledge that Master Knives had been responsible for my reassignment, not Legato made me feel more positive about the job change. In a sense that made Master Knives my boss, not Legato. As grateful as I must be to Legato for the past kindness he had shown me, I no longer felt I could trust him completely.  
  
The stop in November was relatively short and an hour later just as the second sun sank below the horizon., we entered the badlands. On the observation deck, several cavalry troops with binoculars scanned the horizon for dust clouds or any other signs of outlaws on the move. I asked a burly whiskered trooper if he'd seen anything.  
  
"Just the trails of a caravan," he sighed almost regretfully "I'd just like to see outlaws try and take this steamer. We're well-armed and ready to repulse any attack."  
  
I wished I felt as confident, but I wasn't particularly impressed with the fact that the government had laid on an extra fifty troopers to guard a five-story sandsteamer.  
  
By eight o'clock the steamer was deep in the badlands and the band was in the lounge playing "Cocksure" when the captain announced over the loud speaker that all passengers should proceed slowly without panic to their compartments.  
  
The cavalry troops aimed to see that passengers obeyed, but the crowd became uneasy when the first wave of armored vehicles approached. The passengers in the casino were very calm to begin with and started down the stairs in an orderly fashion.  
  
But all that changed in an instant when a volley of random rapid-fire shots shattered the big glass window. A woman screamed and several passengers broke for the exits.  
  
"Remain calm," commanded the cavalry sergeant in a deep voice that cowed the crowd into behaving. But a minute later, another volley rang out and a woman in a spangled evening gown lurched forward onto the green baize roulette table, staining it with the blood that fountained out of her chest.  
  
Then the lounge erupted into mob violence. Passengers screamed and jammed the exits, clawing, shoving and kicking as each tried to be the first to get down the staircase. I didn't care to join the herd. The troops could do nothing to stop the mad rush.  
  
I was angry with the crowd, angry with the bandits. Every time I heard a gunshot, I got a mental image of a stray bullet ending Nick's life or smashing into the bottles of life-giving medicine that dripped into his arms and I began to be consumed by my anger. My hands tightened on Silvia. I doubted I could make it down the congested stairwell to rejoin Nick but I soon had another plan in mind.  
  
Something sparked in a cold vengeful part of my brain, a sensation, primal and reptilian. I uttered a short bark of bitter laughter and met Hot Lip's eyes with mine. He looked as feral as I felt. His hands on his trumpet and mine on Silvia, we ascended the steps to the top deck and looked down at the vehicles streaming alongside our steamer.  
  
Anger drove me. I stood on the parapet, put Silvia to my lips and blew a string of sickening notes, wild and dissonant that thickened the air before me. My thoughts grew more malevolent as I blew, Hatred filled me as I thought of Big Bill McFarlane and my mother's ruined face. My fury spawned powerful churning dust devils.  
  
I was only dimly aware of the sound of Hot Lip's trumpet, but I matched the unearthly brazen notes he played with a demonic harmony of my own that found the weakest links in the human flesh that drove those vehicles down below and broke them. I willed the blood to welter from their noses, ears, and eyes and mouths. I willed their vehicles into the vortex coaxed into being by the lethal shrieking of our horns.  
  
In a few more minutes, all the lights of the attacking vehicles winked out, their roaring engines silent as death. Except for the rumble of the steamer engine, all was quiet and our vessel sped on through the canyons of the badlands, unimpeded.  
  
It took me a few minutes to come to myself. The few cavalry troopers who had stayed to watch the action let me and my father pass with looks full of fear and respect.  
  
Word of what Hot Lips and I had done passed quickly and we got the same odd looks from the rest of the passengers who had been forced to stay in the lounge due to the killing crush in the stairwell. Even the faces of my band mates wore that same expression of awe and fear.  
  
Dixie put into words to what the rest were feeling.  
  
"What you all did was as spooky as hell. All I can say is, thank the good Lord, you were on our side!"  
  
There was enthusiastic agreement from the rest of the crowd and the unaccustomed offer from the bartender, "In honor of our horn-blowing saviors, drinks are on the house!"  
  
I wanted to leave, but the crowd in the lounge wouldn't let me go until they'd toasted Hot Lips and me. So I had a quick shot of whiskey and then went down to visit Nick. Dr. Reed had been called to help with some of the casualties from the stairwell panic and when I arrived, Ruby asked me if I minded if she went to assist him. I was happy to let her go. Nick was awake and feeling no pain. I lit us both a couple of cigarettes and we smoked for a while.  
  
"I've seen you kill with your horn before, Midvalley, but never anything quite like that," said Nick. His eyes were full of respect but not with the fear that the others had shown, I was relieved to see.  
  
"I was angry," I said.  
  
"I'd hate to see you mad at me, like that."  
  
"I don't think you'll ever have to worry about that, Nick," I said with smile and sealed his mouth with a tender kiss. The soft questing of his tongue in my mouth made my heart flutter and I groaned with pleasure at our closeness and embraced him, pierced through to my soul with my love for him.  
  
I finally broke the kiss reluctantly, but sat beside him until Ruby and Dr. Reed returned, then went to bed. The next morning a little after dawn, we arrived in the city of December.  
  
To be continued 


	32. Orleans Orphanage

Orleans Orphanage  
  
Dr. Reed had a word with me before we disembarked.  
  
"I've given your partner some drugs to take the edge off his pain. This trip is going to take a lot out of him."  
  
The pain killers gave Nick a false sense of strength and he put aside his pajamas and dressed himself. However much he needed the drugs to move freely without pain, it was still good to see him up and about, though it distressed me to see how loose his suit had gotten from the weight he'd lost due to fever. I helped him with his shoes and socks.  
  
I had a lot of things to arrange yet so I put my worries aside and left my friend in the surgeon's care and saw about off-loading our belongings.  
  
I was hashing out what to do about Nick's motorcycle with Lenny when Hot Lips joined in and volunteered to ride it out to the orphanage.  
  
"Come on, Hot Lips," said Lenny, "Gimme a break. It's bad enough not having Midvalley. I don't want to lose our other headliner. Jason will jump at the chance and I'm sure there's got to be bus service back."  
  
One of the ticket agents assured us that there were indeed buses out to the orphanage. If Jason made his connections right, he could be back in December in time for the next night's engagement at Fat Freddy's Grand Saloon. It had been a while since the fiddle player had ridden a motorcycle, but he wasn't all that thrilled about the idea of the bus ride back so I gave him a hundred double dollars to sweeten the deal.  
  
I rented a van that had a fold-out bed and stowed Silvia, the Cross Punisher, and the rest of the luggage in it. Dr. Reed and I carried Nick's stretcher to the van. At first he fussed over being carried at all, grumpy as a toddler, but quieted as the drugs he'd been given began to make him drowsy.  
  
I purchased some breakfast food, box lunches and beverages, fueled the vehicle and then headed off southwest. As the day wore on, the heat in the van magnified. None of us felt good. Ruby tried to keep Nick's temperature down with cool compresses but because he couldn't drink enough water to stay fully hydrated, he started to run a fever.  
  
The tire that blew out some 200 iles into the trip didn't help matters. When the vehicle stopped, the breeze that come through the window stopped with it. Though we opened all the doors and windows, the interior was like an oven. It didn't take more than a half hour to change the tire, but the solar glare burned my skin and gave me a headache, and it was well after second sundown before I glimpsed the steeple of the Orleans Orphanage silhouetted against the darkening sky.  
  
Some few minutes later, the van rolled in and I parked it in front of the main entrance. The whitewashed adobe building was roofed with terra cotta tiles and surrounded by a cluster of ten smaller outbuildings that shared the same color scheme.  
  
A tall nun with chiseled features in a black habit and veil glided down the steps as I stepped out of the van and said, "You must be Mr. Midvalley. Your friend, Jason arrived a few hours ago to drop off Father Nick's motorcycle. Before he left, he told us to expect you, so we've prepared the infirmary. I'll show you the way. I'm Sister Luz."  
  
I made quick introductions while we prepared to move Nick. The doctor took one end of the stretcher while I took the other, and the nun led us to a room with a couple of beds. We set Nick on one. A minute later Ruby followed us with the doctor's bag.  
  
"It's good to have you back, Father Nick," said the nun. "It's only been a couple of weeks since we saw you last and the children were missing you, especially Annie."  
  
"Sister Luz," Nick said in greeting, "I'd recognize that voice anywhere."  
  
He sounded exhausted.  
  
"Help me, Midvalley," he said and his head began to thrash a little.  
  
"He's in pain," I said with some urgency. The doctor had a hypo ready and injected Nick with the painkiller. In a few more moments, my friend sighed in relief.  
  
The doctor unbuttoned Nick's jacket and shirt and checked the dressing on his wound. It was inflamed. Now more than ever I was angry with myself for the stupid idea of taking him on such a long trip.  
  
"He's gotten dehydrated again. I want to start him on another drip with the antibiotics again," said the doctor in an aside to Ruby who left immediately to bring in the equipment from the van.  
  
I helped Nick sit up and eased him out of his jacket and shirt. I laid him back on the bed, undid the fastenings on his pants, slipped them off and then slid the covers over him. His hand reached up and caressed my neck. It was such an intimate gesture that my heart softened while my body tensed with the nun watching us. He opened his mouth as if to say something but sleep claimed him with his next breath which was a muffled snore and I took his hand off my shoulder and placed it under the sheet.  
  
I was worried about him again and my fears of losing him sparked a desperate affection in me, a feverish lovesickness that made me long to smother him with kisses, even as he lay sleeping. I looked up and saw the nun watching me. I blushed and hoped that my sunburn hid my reaction. Whether the nun noticed or not, there was no difference in her tone when she spoke to me.  
  
"You look very tired, Mr. Midvalley. We made up the other bed in this room for your use. I understand you'll be staying with us for a little while." She sounded friendly. If she suspected anything about my connection with Nick, she seemed to find nothing to condemn in it.  
  
"Yes, for a little while," I said.  
  
"There's a bathroom through that door if you want to wash off some of the road dust. If you get hungry there's a cooler down the hall with juice and some sandwiches. Tomorrow morning, you'll find that the noise levels are higher in other parts of our complex, but the children are being very quiet tonight. They're on their best behavior for Father Nick."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"No, thank you for bringing him home to us. You can't imagine how grateful we are to have him back with us," she said and exited the door.  
  
I found a wash cloth, wet it with cool water and set it on Nick's forehead as Ruby came back to set up the IV. I went out to the van and brought in a few more pieces of luggage and then took a quick shower. A small hand- written sign on the wall urged me to conserve water and I complied. I had a bite to eat afterward, put on my pajamas and went to bed. Ruby and Dr. Reed took turns checking on Nick through the night. Despite the occasional interruptions when I heard them moving around the room, I slept soundly.  
  
The high pitched sound of a kitten mewing woke me up next morning and as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, a little girl pushed past the half-open door into the room.  
  
"Shhh, Blackie," she cautioned the little bundle of fur and she stroked its back in an effort to quiet it. She walked over to take a look at Nick and sighed in disappointment.  
  
"Father Nick is still asleep," she announced to the kitten. "I guess you'll have to wait to meet him."  
  
She heaved another deeper sigh and turned to go back out again.  
  
She had fine brown hair, and blue eyes that looked a little disappointed. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me.  
  
"Are you sick, too," she asked me.  
  
"No, I'm Father Nick's friend," I answered.  
  
"Are you sure you're not sick? You're in the sick room and you look like you might be. When I was sick, my new mama brought me a kitten and then I felt better."  
  
I smiled at the girl's faith in the curative powers of her kitten.  
  
"What's your kitty's name?" I asked.  
  
"His name is Blackie. Here," she said and she set a small green-eyed furball on my blanket. He didn't seem in the least frightened of me, but walked into the palm of my hand, sniffed it, sneezed and fell down. I lifted the kitten up and pulled it close to my chest. It sat butting its head against me, then scuttled up and rubbed its soft head against my chin whiskers. Not sure he liked that feeling, he arched his neck back, complained, then spied something that must have looked familiar because he shimmied up further on my chest and started to suck on my ear lobe.  
  
"Whoa, Blackie, just what are you up to?" I chuckled. "Well, at least that shut him up for a second, but I think he wants his mama."  
  
"His mama died," the little girl said.  
  
"That's too bad," I said.  
  
The girl went quiet for a moment.  
  
The little fellow started to purr though he got no milk from my ear.  
  
"I think he likes you," she said.  
  
"I had a cat named Blackie once," I said.  
  
"Oh, where is he?"  
  
I didn't know what to say to her. He had probably long since used up his nine lives.  
  
"I don't know. He disappeared a long time ago when my mother died."  
  
"When my mama died, God sent me a new one. Her name is Ginny," she said. "Did he send you a new mama?"  
  
"No," I said. "Besides I don't believe." I started to say, but my throat tightened shut and I couldn't finish the thought. I set the kitten back down on the blanket and watched absently as it climbed over the valleys and ridges of the blanket and thought about the God that had allowed my mother to die with her brains splattered on the wall of her bedroom.  
  
"Did God send me a new mama?" I found myself repeating what the girl had said, and in that moment felt more than just a little bitter, but she was just a kid. I didn't need ruin her hopes and dreams. I was sure she'd had enough pain in her life already.  
  
"Don't be sad," she said. Here she'd lost her own mother but she was worried about me. What a sweet child she was.  
  
"You must miss her very much," she said with her lower lip trembling.  
  
She was right. I did.  
  
"Father Nick told me that if I prayed real hard, maybe God would send me a new mama and He did. Maybe if you pray, He'll send you one to love you, too."  
  
"Someone to love me?" I repeated dully. When I thought of love, I thought of Nick and the feeling of dullness lifted.  
  
"Father Nick says, 'The Lord works in mysterious ways,'" the little girl nodded as if she agreed with the truth of the remark and I began to smile when I thought of the irony of how the unconventional priest had come back into my life. Wouldn't it be funny if there was a God after all?  
  
"Maybe you're right," I said to the girl. "Who knows? Maybe it was God who sent someone to love me and I just didn't know it, but I do have someone."  
  
So many emotions washed over me in such a short period of time, I was caught between tears and laughter. The extreme volatility of my own feelings struck me funny and I ended up laughing softly.  
  
"Oh! What a relief!" she said with such a big sigh and funny voice, that I laughed harder.  
  
"It is," I agreed with a chuckle. "You must be Annie."  
  
The girl's mouth opened in amazement.  
  
"You must be magic," she said.  
  
'No, not magic. I met your new mama and Father Nick told me about you."  
  
"He's a nice priest. I like him a lot."  
  
"Me, too," I said.  
  
I heard sheets rustle and watched as Nick sat up.  
  
"He's awake now, Annie" I said. "You can introduce him to Blackie,"  
  
I set the small animal in Annie's hands. She gave me a big smile, then brought it to Nick. The last thing I saw as I left for the bathroom was Blackie creeping up to settle on his chest.  
  
By the time I got back Annie and the kitten were gone and Dr. Reed was examining Nick's wound.  
  
"I'm pleased with the progress you've made," said the surgeon as he pulled the needles and tubes from my friend's arm. "You're rehydrated and the inflammation is under control again. I think today that you can attempt anything you think you can handle. But listen to your body and don't push too hard. From now on, walking will be your best medicine, but don't try to do too much at once. Sister Luz has supplied you with a wheel chair. You'll want to walk and rest and then walk and rest some more."  
  
"Mr. Midvalley," he continued, "I believe you won't mind staying close by him to help him if he needs it."  
  
"Not at all," I said.  
  
"Then if you don't mind," continued the doctor, "I am going to join Ruby at the cafeteria for breakfast."  
  
"Breakfast sounds good," I said.  
  
"Ruby will bring you both something on a tray, if you wish."  
  
"I'd rather get out of here and eat at the cafeteria," Nick said to me, "but I want to clean up first."  
  
After Dr. Reed left, Nick went into the bathroom to take a shower. He was gone for quite a while and when he didn't come back I went to check on him. He was standing in front of the basin mirror with only a towel tied around his waist. He was trying to shave but his hands were trembling so much from the sheer effort of standing, that he couldn't hold the razor steady.  
  
I took it from his hand, put down the lid of the toilet seat and eased him onto it. He sighed with relief. We neither of us had a word to say as I was concentrating on what I was doing so I wouldn't cut him and he was still too tired to talk, but I enjoyed the closeness, the easy way he responded to my touch. I finished shaving him, patted his face dry, then ran my palm across his cheek, to see if I'd missed a spot. He caught my wrist and looked up at me.  
  
"What?" I asked. He pulled himself up and leaned against me, not just for support. A little tentative from the wound in his side he wrapped put his arms around me and embraced me.  
  
"He sent someone to love me too," he said softly and tightened his hug.  
  
"Ah, you heard," I responded and rested my chin on his shoulder.  
  
"I didn't think you were a believer," he said.  
  
"I believe in you," I said and brushed his cheek with my lips, felt moisture and tasted salt.  
  
He turned his face, searched my lips with his, then broke the seal to whisper, "Thanks for bringing me home."  
  
I could tell that the standing was getting to him again, so I gave him a shoulder to lean on back to our room. When he finished dressing, he made his way down the small flight of steps to where Sister Luz's wheel chair was parked. Nick sat down in it with a sigh of relief, and pointed out the building that housed the cafeteria.  
  
I pushed the chair down the pathway. The infirmary had been relatively quiet, but when we turned a corner and entered a courtyard that was swarming with children laughing and shouting, I found out that Sister Luz hadn't lied about the noise levels. It was louder than the White Cat Saloon on a Saturday night.  
  
Everywhere I looked, I saw kids in motion. There must have been at least 100 of them playing all sorts of games--hopscotch, jacks, marbles, hide-and- seek. Children bounced and shot basketballs on an asphalt court, while still others played jump rope.  
  
Voices rang out as some of the children recognized Nick.  
  
"Look over there, guys! Father Nick is back!" shouted a boy on the basketball court. His friends turned and waved.  
  
"Hooray!! It's Father Nick!" called out one of the girls who was turning a jump rope, and that group yelled their greetings.  
  
"I'm so glad you're home again, Father!" said Annie who dangled a string for Blackie to pounce on.  
  
Every now and then Nick would see a nun and call out, "Good morning, Sister." He greeted a Sister Mary, a Sister Linda, and after that I couldn't keep all the names straight. They just waved back at him. I think Sister Luz had told them how serious Nick's wound was, and they were trying to keep the enthusiasm of the children in check, certain that too much of it would overwhelm him on his first day back.  
  
As much fun as it was to watch the children's games, I could no longer ignore the demands of my growling stomach. I parked the wheelchair by the door of the small building that held the cafeteria and the two of us walked in.  
  
The place was empty except for us and the aide on duty who turned out to be Annie's mom, Ginny. She served us up hot black coffee, scrambled eggs and biscuits for breakfast. After we were through, Ginny made a point of bringing Nick an ash tray and stayed for a minute.  
  
"Thanks," he said and lit up at once. He sighed with pleasure as he exhaled the smoke from his first drag.  
  
"I heard how you got shot, saving Mr. Midvalley's life, just like you tried to do for Molly," the woman said as she began to clear the dirty plates from the table. "I don't think I thanked you enough the last time for what you tried to do. And then you sent me into Annie's life, and gave me some work that makes me feel needed. God bless you."  
  
Nick flushed in embarrassment, "I was glad to do it," he said. "By the way, not to change the subject, but this is great coffee. Strong enough to float a spoon--just the way I like it."  
  
"Thanks, but even if you're just too modest to take a compliment, it's good to have you back again, Father Nick. I hope you can stay longer than a few days this time. We lost a couple of children after you left last time," she said then walked back with her arms full through swinging door into the kitchen.  
  
Nick's brow furrowed over her last remark.  
  
After we left the cafeteria, Nick gave me a tour of the grounds. It touched and humbled me to see the enterprise my friend devoted so much energy to maintaining.  
  
He guided me to a wooded copse where birds sang and a small pond rippled. I was surprised to see such a well-maintained patch of greenery.  
  
"It's a plant offshoot that managed to survive the crash and the drought. It's over one hundred years old and we are careful to maintain its health," he said. "We have our own dew farm and a hydroponics greenhouse run by Sister Rose."  
  
The greenhouse was the next stop. Nick entered first and I heard a woman's voice address him.  
  
"Father Nick, it's so good to see you again," said the low melodic voice. ".even if you look like shit!"  
  
I saw that the voice belonged to a short nun in thick horn-rimmed spectacles.  
  
"Thanks, Sister Rose, I knew you wouldn't hide the truth from me," Nick replied, his eyes sparkling with fun.  
  
"Hey, I like fertilizer. You know that. Maybe it was a compliment," the nun joked.  
  
Well, here was a nun as unconventional as my priest partner.  
  
"Introduce me to your handsome friend," she said as she peered through her thick-lensed glasses. I think I've seen him around somewhere."  
  
"On the cover of Hornfreak Gold, maybe?" prompted Nick.  
  
"No, that's not it," said the nun. "Wait a minute," she continued. "Let me clean these bifocals."  
  
She cleaned the lenses with a handkerchief and took a good look at me.  
  
"Holy crap!" she said. "It's him! Midvalley the Hornfreak! Oh, sorry about the bad language Mr. Midvalley. I'm Sister Rose. Damn, if I'd known it was you, I would have cleaned up my foul language. Too late now, I'm busted."  
  
"It's a pleasure all the same Sister Rose," I said and shook her hand.  
  
"Your hands are so soft," she said. 'You look even better in person, and your music.is.just wonderful."  
  
"Keep flattering me," I told her. "I can't get enough of it."  
  
I found I liked the funny little nun.  
  
"You're a lucky devil, Father Nick," she declared. "Does he let you carry his sax case?"  
  
"Just give him the grand tour and maybe he'll autograph your mini-albums and answer all your questions," said Nick with his eyes rolling.  
  
"You know I'm too shy for that," the nun said. I couldn't tell if she was serious or not. "Maybe later. I've got to reset the timer on the pea vines."  
  
I looked at the set-up. There were three greenhouses full of fresh produce in different stages of growth-- lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, peas, string beans, and even melons.  
  
"There's no way we could provide all the food we need without Sister Rose's assistance," Nick said in a tone of serious admiration. "She has a knack for technology and gardening. She's taught a number of our orphans enough about hydroponics that many of them have been able to support themselves by farming after leaving us to go out on their own."  
  
The plants looked healthy and vigorous despite the fact that the greenhouse they were growing in looked a little run down.  
  
Plywood boards patched cracked broken windows and it seemed that much of the machinery, pipes and fittings were held together with grey plastic tape.  
  
"It looks better from a distance doesn't it, Midvalley," Nick said in a rueful tone. "It's an old facility and a testament to her ability that she can grow such fine crops with the challenges she has. All the orphanage buildings are old and the place was originally designed to provide homes for fifty children. We've got double that. The place is literally bursting at the seams. Sometimes I think that the only things that that keep it all from falling apart are duct tape and volunteers who care too much to quit."  
  
"I heard that," piped up Sister Luz who swept up behind us. "Dr. Reed told me you were up and about so I followed your tracks."  
  
"The shabbiness isn't our biggest problem now, Father Nick." said the nun. "I started praying for a financial miracle when I found out you were injured. This probably isn't the best time to raise this subject, but we have a problem."  
  
"I know," said Nick. "Ginny told me something that disturbed me."  
  
"I'm getting to that," said Sister Luz. "I don't have to tell you how much we depend on the money you send to keep us going. Lord knows, I don't begrudge the fact that you saved your partner's life, but we've lost four children to the street again in just the short time since we saw you last and picked up another 10 homeless children to care for. The $$100,000 you sent will keep us going nicely for a while, but you know what ten extra children means financially."  
  
Nick sighed and said, "An extra 30 meals a day, an extra 210 meals a week."  
  
"And Sister Rose can only do-"  
  
".so much, I know," interrupted the priest. "Who were the four children we lost? I was thinking two must be Chris and Bret."  
  
"That's right. Well, they're always thinking that they're old enough to fend for themselves and they don't want to be a burden. They had ties to gangs in December, and without you around to set them straight, well, they finally left one night."  
  
"I can't be everywhere at once," said Nick. I could feel his frustration. "Bret's not even twelve yet.They weren't a burden."  
  
I felt his dismay.  
  
"Who are the other two?" he asked as if he knew but didn't want to hear the answer.  
  
"Tina's walking the streets." said the nun.  
  
"But, she'll just get beaten up again." He was troubled by the news.  
  
"And the last child?" he asked with a sigh.  
  
"Stan left because some of the other boys were making his life hell. Because he's a little different, he's had more teasing than most. Since it's hard for us to keep an eye on them at all times, well, it went beyond teasing this time. He got beaten up, but he wouldn't say who did it. Next morning, he was gone."  
  
"That's just not right. The others shouldn't act like that." Nick's eyes flashed with anger, but then a softer light gleamed in them and he said, "I've thought of a way to get them back."  
  
"Why would they even want to come back? Face it. Except for Stan, everyone else left because of our money problems. Chris and Bret can make pocket money in the gang. You know we don't have even have c-cents to spare for allowances, much less double dollars. And Tina had been crying over not having anything pretty to wear. It may sound stupid to you, but it was important to her. All she asked for was a hair ribbon and I told her, we couldn't afford it. She left that night over the price of a hair ribbon. Unless you've miraculously come up with another hundred thousand double dollars, I don't think you'll be able to get them back."  
  
"Is that how much you prayed for, Sister, when you asked God for a financial miracle?" asked Nick.  
  
"That's right, one hundred thousand double dollars. Why?"  
  
"You should have more faith," said Nick with a smug smile. "He gave us $$200,000."  
  
"Praise the Lord!" she whispered fervently and fumbled in the pocket of her habit for a folded piece of paper that she placed in Nick's hand. "It's our needs list. We should discuss it," she said with a determined look in her eyes.  
  
"But my friend, Midvalley, might be bored. I don't think he expected me to be in a business meeting my first day back." said Nick. He seemed hesitant but only because I was along, I sensed. It was thoughtful of him, but I also believed he wanted to talk about the needs list.  
  
"I'm a businessman, Nick," I said. "I don't mind listening. Maybe I can help."  
  
Sister Luz directed us to a small building which contained the business office, offered us both coffee, and handed Nick a clean ash tray which was as well, for somehow he had one lit already, and then she plunged into her topic with focussed intelligence. She had compassionate eyes and an expressive face that awakened my own interest in the welfare of these children. Her passion about their futures was contagious.  
  
Nick, I could see was just as passionate. He really didn't want any other children to be brought up the way he had been, steeped in violence daily, trained to kill.  
  
Nick's grasp of the big picture and his ability to generate practical solutions to everyday problems, impressed me. Though I knew he had a good fund of common sense, still I had always thought of him as intuitive and spontaneous. Sister Luz left the meeting with a broad smile on her face.  
  
Nick and I left also and headed back to the copse. Nick made it most of the way on foot though our progress was slow and his energy flagged. I wheeled him the rest of the way, pleased to see another sign that he was healing.  
  
"This orphanage comes as a bit of a revelation to me. You're surprising me again, partner," I told him. "I must admit that for quite a while I thought that you had all your money woes because of gambling debts.  
  
"It was another kind of debt."  
  
"I know."  
  
"My father, taught me a lot about making practical choices. I don't make the ones he thinks I should sometimes. I know I'm a disappointment to him, but I have learned what it takes to run an orphanage with 100 kids and 15 staff members. Bottom line is-345 meals a day. About 2400 meals a week, every week. And the children's minds are every bit as hungry as their bodies. What I love most about this place is how much it isn't like my father's academy. Unlike us, these kids won't have to grow up on a steady diet of death."  
  
It boggled my mind that my friend had taken on the responsibility for the welfare of so many people. There were towns with smaller populations.  
  
While Nick got up and walked about in the shade of the copse, I was thinking of the plans that Sister Luz and Nick had discussed for improving the cash flow. They planned to reduce expenses by trying to increase placement of the orphans. There was talk of switching the savings account to one with a higher rate of interest. A good portion of the financial windfall would be devoted to expanding the hydroponic greenhouse operation which would do much to decrease reliance on the more expensive outright purchase of food.  
  
I had heard enough at the meeting to realize that even with the $$200,000 dollars, there would likely be an economic shortfall within a year no matter how they sliced it, because Nick had lost his main source of income.  
  
Because he had risked his life to save mine, he was out of work and when he didn't work, he didn't get paid. On the few occasions I'd seen Nick use his portable confessional, I noticed that it seemed to piss people off more than it encouraged donations.  
  
As I thought more about donations, my mind lit up with the idea that maybe I could get the band to play a benefit for the orphanage. As long as the band got paid, I was sure they wouldn't mind. A gig was a gig, after all. Then there would be the cost of renting an auditorium, security, extra sound equipment.I ticked off the expenses in my mind.publicity. Publicity!  
  
I went from speculation to certainty that I could pull it off in that moment, but I was going to have to get to work on this right away. Lenny. I bet I could get Lenny and Dixie to help out. It was only right that I help Nick financially. I didn't have that much time left before I had to leave to start work as Legato's assistant. I looked up to see that Nick was as wrapped in thought as I had been. I didn't want to interrupt him, but his own concentration broke a moment later.  
  
"Got something on your mind? You were concentrating awfully hard, Midvalley."  
  
"No harder than you, but I just realized that I need to get a message to Lenny."  
  
"Sister Luz is going into Karsted Flats in about half an hour. I'm sure she'd be happy to send it on."  
  
"I was thinking that I really ought to drive back to December myself but I don't want to leave you."  
  
"I don't want you to go either but I have to arrange to bring those children back here. Some of the problems that I have to solve are going to take a lot of my time."  
  
"That and getting enough rest so that you heal completely," I reminded him. "And what I need to do will take time as well," I said.  
  
We were both silent and just looked at each other. I knew that the welfare of the children who had left the orphanage weighed heavily on him. I wanted to help him out, not just because I felt I owed him, but because I wanted to erase the worried frown on his face and see the smile I loved again.  
  
He limped over to the wheelchair and sat in the cool shade of a leafy maple. I settled on the ground beside him and reached for his hand. He took mine with his while we watched a light wind play on the surface of the pond. It was a peaceful moment between us that we savored though we both knew what was coming.  
  
"It always seems to come down to this, doesn't it, Midvalley? Another separation."  
  
"But in a way, it doesn't really matter, does it, Nick?"  
  
In answer, he squeezed my hand just a little more warmly and when our eyes met I felt a kind of drunken ecstasy from just gazing at his. Crazy love feelings surged through me-heart fluttering, singing, dancing, while a thousand thoughts raced through my head that I would shout it from the rooftops, whisper it to the wind, sing it through Silvia, moan it when I came and groan it with my dying breath. In my mind I did all those things, heard a voice say, "I love you," and knew it was ours.  
  
The fiery sensation of mad love consumed me, burned me to the marrow of my bones and left a husk. All the rest of me was his as he was mine.  
  
The breeze that stroked my hair was his hand.  
  
"No, it doesn't really matter, not at all."  
  
To Be Continued 


	33. A Change of Plans

A Change of Plans  
  
I left that afternoon and hooked up with Lenny and the rest of the band some six hours later. They were booked at a club called Smokey's. I could hear the sizzling riffs of Hot Lips' trumpet and feel the beat of Lenny's drumset, from half a block away.  
  
Lenny was glad to see me if a little surprised.  
  
"Trouble in paradise?" he asked.  
  
"Nah, just got some big ideas about a benefit concert for the orphans-- if I my plans don't get shot down."  
  
Dixie sat down beside me with and tossed back a shot of whiskey, "God, it's nice to see you, Midvalley. What's this about a benefit?"  
  
"I was hoping if everyone hasn't made plans already that I could rent the armory for Sunday, we play a gig and donate the proceeds to Orleans Orphanage."  
  
"That's where Chapel is, isn't it? Is he okay?" asked Sunny, who was nursing a long neck beer.  
  
"Yeah, he's feeling a lot better. But the orphanage he runs could use some financial help, so I thought I'd ask you if you could play a benefit for them.  
  
"Would we get paid?" asked Toby.  
  
"Sure," I said, "I'll guarantee that you all get paid, the same as for any concert. I wouldn't expect you guys to donate your pay unless you wanted to. I know the road's expensive."  
  
"Sounds good to me," said Randy. "You can count me in."  
  
Jason said, "I saw the place. Pretty impressive from a distance, but up close, it looks like it could use some help. The kids I saw seemed real nice. I still can't believe I'm getting paid for playing. I'd do it for free."  
  
Hot Lips joined the group. "Don't let the club owner hear that, or he'll think we're overcharging him."  
  
"Well, the gang's all here," said Lenny as Dave and Sunny slipped in to sit beside him. "Anyone up to playing a benefit gig at the armory on Sunday for Chapel's orphans?"  
  
The consensus was yes.  
  
"Well, break out Silvia, Midvalley. Don't tell me you just came here tonight as an angel of mercy," said Dixie. "Let's have a little fun tonight. Break's almost over."  
  
I tuned up with Sunny and then joined in on a number called "Permanent Vacation" and had killer solo in the middle. With Sunny on acoustic, Randy on electric, Toby's sliding bass runs and Lenny's shimmering cymbals-I just loved how the music flowed. I hadn't played for a couple of days and everything felt fresh.  
  
Later in the set, we took audience requests from our usual repertoire. Thank God Hot Lips was there. Sometimes it seemed like he knew every song ever written and if he didn't, he sure could fake it.  
  
During the break, I cornered Lenny and pumped him for information.  
  
"I don't have much lead time to get the word out to the public about the concert, but if you could get that friend of yours who works on the satellite to advertise the benefit for us, well, it's really about the only way we'll get good gate receipts."  
  
He agreed to contact his friend the next morning.  
  
Next morning at brunch in the hotel café, I heard the ad for the benefit on the satellite broadcast. The announcer was saying, ".and don't miss the sensational playing of the legendary horn talents, Hot Lips McCoy and Midvalley the Hornfreak, featured on that golden oldie "Silvia's Tune" and the new hot hit, "Serenade". The Midvalley Seven and Kenny McCoy are donating the proceeds of this concert to the Orleans Orphanage. It's a wonderful cause."  
  
I opened up a copy of the December Star and was surprised to see a dramatic drawing of my father and me on top of the sandsteamer blowing up a dust storm on the night the gangs attacked. I read the opening paragraphs of the article and was pleased they got the facts straight for a change. As my eye skimmed down the page, a name caught my eye and I slowed down.  
  
"The demonstration of the lethal power of the Hornfreak's sax has reawakened speculation about his possible involvement in the disappearance of rival musician, Skip Walker."  
  
"Rival?" I muttered. "Musician? Ha!"  
  
"Reading more lies?" asked Hot Lips.  
  
"The usual."  
  
He joined me for breakfast and we ended up spending the day together. He came along with me while I rented the armory and saw about the additional sound equipment and lighting for the benefit performance.  
  
Sometime that afternoon when my energy was at low ebb, he persuaded me to become a member of the Mouth of Gabriel. I decided to do it for a couple of reasons. I wanted a greater sense of connection with my father, and I hoped I might use the activities of the organization as a reason to see Nick more often.  
  
That evening, after the gig at Black Jack's Saloon, Hot Lips took me to a small church outside the city to be initiated into the rite of the Mouth of Gabriel. He'd asked me to bring Silvia along.  
  
It was dark inside, but large candles lit the domed enclosure. There was a cross on the altar and in the four corners of the church there were statues of angels. I recognized that Gabriel with his horn was one of them.  
  
I could barely recall the last time I had been in a church and I looked to Hot Lips for clues. He led me to the front near the altar. He dropped down on one knee and made a sign with his hand, and then sat down on a bench. I sat beside him. He appeared to be waiting.  
  
I had no expectations. Some nuns filed in up the aisle with candles and came to stop before me.  
  
"Who offers the initiate?" said a nun with a simply beautiful face. She was wearing a gray veil and habit.  
  
"A servant of Gabriel brings another to serve," said Hot Lips.  
  
"Let him open his mind and his heart and his soul to judgment."  
  
"What do I do?" I whispered.  
  
"Open up. As hollow as your horn."  
  
Without playing Silvia, it was hard for me to find that quiet space within. I closed my eyes and heard the rustling of the nun's robes and the scrape of Hot Lips' shoes on the sandstone floor, the flutter of candles as a door opened and a breeze flowed down the aisle. What was it that I was supposed to feel? What was this initiation about? I sighed in frustration and opened my eyes.  
  
"It's hard for me to do this without Silvia. Can I play my horn?" I asked.  
  
"That's appropriate," said one of the nuns gravely.  
  
Hot Lips opened Silvia's case and handed her to me.  
  
"Play," said the nun.  
  
I looked to Hot Lips for some clue.  
  
"A tune?" I asked.  
  
He shook his head, "Just play."  
  
I improvised and played as the spirit moved me, a meandering fugue that wove in and out of a minor key, soft and sensual. It seemed to fit the candlelight mood. I heard one of the nuns sigh at the throbbing mysterious musical flow.  
  
Finally when I felt that my song was through, I let the last notes reverberate in the air and then took the mouthpiece from my lips.  
  
I felt whole and at peace.  
  
"Do you pledge your body to aid the angels sent to us?" said the nun.  
  
I looked to Hot Lips for guidance. He nodded.  
  
I nodded and said, "I pledge my body."  
  
"This one will serve," chanted the nuns in a chorus.  
  
"Do you pledge your powers of mind to aid the angels sent to us?"  
  
"I pledge my powers of mind," I said.  
  
"This one will serve," sang the nuns in unison.  
  
Do you pledge your soul to serve the angels sent to us?"  
  
"I pledge my soul," I said.  
  
Then the nuns sang in chorus again, "This one will serve."  
  
And then, it was done. I felt no different and thought the whole ceremony had been a waste of time.  
  
A few minutes later, Hot Lips took me to another private house up the street and I met the cell of the Mouth of Gabriel. It didn't take long. There were a few musicians and roadies that I recognized from around. I went over and chatted with them about the music scene while Hot Lips made inquiries of his own. After a few minutes, we left. My father looked like he'd heard bad news.  
  
"What's the matter?" I asked him on the walk back to the hotel.  
  
"Master Knives had another relapse," he said.  
  
"That must be hard on Legato. He's been helping him with healing."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hot Lips was silent for a while.  
  
"Has any trace of Vash the Stampede been found?" I asked.  
  
"There were over 20 leads, but none of them panned out. Master Knives has been very frustrated by our inability to find his brother. He has been exhausting his strength making his own inquiries. When Master Knives is at full strength, his psychic talents dwarf Legato's, but every time he uses his powers of mind, his body weakens."  
  
"Legato must be exhausted," I said.  
  
"I suppose so." said Hot Lips with a thoughtful expression. "But you look a lot better. Your leave of absence has done you good. I'd never know you'd been ill. What are your plans for the next few days?"  
  
"Well, after the benefit, I thought I'd swing by to see Nick again before I head back. I have a few more days of leave and I thought I'd spend it with him. I also had a business proposition for the orphanage. I was thinking of setting up another production and distribution center in the December area. If some of the nuns could take charge of the business, it would be profitable for the orphanage and for my recording business.  
  
"That's good thinking, Midvalley. I can see why Legato wants you for his right hand man.  
  
"Thanks, for the compliment, but I'm not exactly eager to return to headquarters," I said. "Don't get me wrong.I know my priorities. Legato told me to use my leave time as I saw fit. I want to see the smile on Nick's face when he sees the size of the check from the concert. Lenny's friend told him he thinks we'll make a lot of money, the city's been so starved for entertainment since Augusta."  
  
When we got back to the hotel, the desk attendant seemed to recollect there was a wire for me It was from Legato, letting me know that I was being recalled to headquarters at the request of Master Knives Millions and to take the next available sandsteamer back. That would be the 10 PM that left in a couple of hours.  
  
"Shit," I said.  
  
"Trouble?" asked Hot Lips.  
  
"Uh, a little," I said with some confusion. My mind was reeling from the sudden blow to my plans. "I just got a wire from Legato. Master Knives has recalled me and wants me to leave on the next steamer back. I spent today renting the armory and sound equipment for the benefit and I don't even have time to cancel, and."  
  
"Maybe we can play the benefit without you, Midvalley," Hot Lips interrupted. "I'd like to do that for you and I'm sure your bandmates won't mind helping you out."  
  
It was such a generous offer, I reached out and hugged him. I was surprised to see tears in his eyes and to feel them in my own.  
  
"Tell the band I'm sorry I had to skip out on them. I've got to go."  
  
"I know. Good-bye, son."  
  
He looked like he wanted to say more.  
  
I didn't have time to do much, but I brought the van back to the place I rented it, bought my ticket, , and wrote Nick a quick letter explaining that I'd been recalled suddenly. I signed it 'with all my love' and posted it at the station.  
  
After I boarded the steamer, found my sleeping berth and stowed my luggage and Silvia safely, I went to the lounge for a nightcap to lift my spirits. I felt a little melancholy that I hadn't been able to see Nick again before I left. The brandy didn't help, so I finally went back to my berth and went to sleep. By morning the mood had passed.  
  
I spent most of my time on the trip back to headquarters playing Silvia in the lounge, catching up on my sleep, eating and wondering what the future held for Nick and me. Some of my thoughts worried me, but most of the time I ended up with a big goofy grin on my face picturing how we'd spend our time together the next time we met.  
  
Four days later I was in Master Knives' mansion at Legato's side waiting to meet the man my father called the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. Legato looked pale and thin but as imperturbable as ever despite his physical weakness.  
  
"Master Knives has had another relapse and wants more strength. He has taken all he could from me but he has heard of your healing ability and thought perhaps he could make some use of it. Are you up to it, Hornfreak?" he asked me as if he doubted I was.  
  
"I'm privileged to serve him," I said.  
  
"Yes," he said in a noncommittal tone.  
  
Then Legato knocked three times on the door of Master Knives' private suite. A voice that sounded somehow familiar said, "Come in," and we entered.  
  
Master Knives had his back turned to me when I first walked in. He was wearing an unusual garment, a two-piece suit of black leather with zippers. I waited politely for him to make the first move, but when he turned and I saw his face, I inhaled sharply in shocked recognition. I remembered it from a nightmare.  
  
"Have we met?" he asked in a condescending tone.  
  
"Not that I recall," I said.  
  
"You looked like you recognized me," said Master Knives. "Have you seen me before?"  
  
"In a dream," I said.  
  
"And what was I doing in this dream?"  
  
"Drinking blood."  
  
"Who's blood?"  
  
"My blood."  
  
"Do you think I would dirty myself with your blood?"  
  
"It was just a dream," I said.  
  
"That's a diplomatic answer," he said with mild amusement. "Legato tells me you're clever."  
  
I looked at Master Knives carefully. He walked with a limp and favored his right side. His skin was very pale and he looked ill. I could see that some might count him as beautiful, but never more than my mother or Nick.  
  
"Legato also tells me you're an empath. Can you feel my emotions?"  
  
Oddly enough, considering I had never met him before or linked with him, I could.  
  
"What am I feeling right now?"  
  
"Contempt."  
  
"Very good. Contempt for whom?"  
  
"Contempt for me..and." I swallowed. I didn't want to finish the sentence, but Legato was an empath. He must know.  
  
"Yes?" he said patiently. "Don't hold back. I shall get angry if you hold back.and contempt for." he prompted me."  
  
".for Legato."  
  
I could feel Legato's emotions as well. He wore the slight smile on his face, but inside it felt like he was bleeding.  
  
"He's honest, Legato, for a human." said Master Knives, "You were right about him.  
  
"What else am I feeling, Hornfreak?" he continued.  
  
"Curiosity, pain, anger."  
  
"I think you're forgetting one."  
  
"Lust."  
  
"That's right."  
  
"And what do I lust for?"  
  
"You want something I have."  
  
"Correct. Take your clothes off."  
  
I hesitated, a sense of panic growing in me, a panic that had its roots in my memories of my rape at the White Cat Saloon.  
  
"Oh, god, don't do this," I begged him.  
  
"I believe you pledged your body to serve me," said Knives in a cold voice, "so serve."  
  
"Legato, I'm waiting," he continued in a demanding voice.  
  
Suddenly I felt my body pushed forward onto all fours, my spine felt like it was breaking.  
  
I felt Legato's hands around my waist unfastening my pants. He exposed me and then I heard him step away.  
  
Nothing in my life prepared me for the violence with which Knives raped me. At some point, I couldn't bear the pain anymore and opened myself to my own healing power. The pain abated momentarily and then redoubled in intensity. As fast as I filled myself with healing, Knives drained it away. Then I realized that Knives meant it to hurt intensely. The more it hurt, the more I needed healing, the more he could drain from me. I shrank from the pain that poured out of him and into me but I couldn't escape it. Not while he rode me and we were locked as one.  
  
I feel his memories. Images collide in my head. Babies. A girl child's body bleeding and torn. as scientists make notes on clipboards. A very young boy in a darkened room.blue eyes filled with fear. The child's voice begs, "No, Steve, no," but in that darkness, innocence is twisted, shredded by lust.the boy is Knives, no more than five, and I thought I knew pain.I weep to see that poor sweet child raped and beaten and I know his pain, but I hurt so much myself right now.God, let it stop.  
  
I try to dissociate from the pain, from the healing. My gift will be the death of me. But I still might live, but how?  
  
Don't feel.I tell myself, but he shreds my nerves and pierces my brain with the memories of his pain.  
  
oh, god.oh god.the pain, the pain. Think of anything else. Legato, where's Legato? Think.  
  
I glimpse him leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, his arms wrapped tight around his chest. Blue hair covers his averted eyes. I feel what he feels.no, it hurts too much too feel.hurts too much to think.  
  
More images flood my mind. two brothers. One, the man who rapes me now, the other, Vash the Stampede. Locked so close to Knives, I feel his feelings like my own. Love, jealousy, and anger eat at the heart of the man inside me.Vash turns his gun on Knives...I am betrayed.  
  
A light glows and pistol grows.a monstrous angel's arm spews a hideous light like hell fire and I feel a shock when it passes through me as though a god had ripped my body asunder.  
  
"Oh, Jesus, help me," I cry out in my agony, but no one answers my prayer. When the full force of the crippling pain hits me, I begin to gibber and scream out loud.  
  
Knives thrusts in me, and I feel his hatred of me and what I am. While I scream and scream in pain and fill myself with healing, Knives spurts hot jism on my back . With one last effort, he thrusts into me again and in his orgasm he is truly one with me who he despises and with the healing power that he lusts for. I feel the blackness begin to overtake me as he drains more and more of my life away. I feel myself begin to fade away, like a drop of water evaporating in the sunlight.  
  
The bonds that hold me to this plane loosen, and the pain and humiliation I have just gone through are as nothing. Finally, I feel a slight tug, like the leaf that falls from a tree and with that tug, I feel my spirit separate from my body, and I.die.  
  
But as I die, I hear the whisper of sand caught by the wind.  
  
Whispering secrets.  
  
The man in white complains, "You said you'd leave him alone."  
  
The man in black mocks, "I changed my mind."  
  
White says, "He is useful."  
  
Black says, "He served his purpose."  
  
Black and white and white and black. The voices argue over what no longer matters. I grow weary of their secrets.  
  
"You relapsed before. You may again. May I."asks white  
  
"Save him?" asks black.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"He's almost gone."  
  
"Let him go," says black.  
  
"No," says white.  
  
"Do what you will," says black. "I don't care anymore."  
  
And I don't care anymore. I'm gone. There is no pain where I am. I could drift forever or sleep forever. There is nothing I want here anymore, no reason to stay.  
  
A voice says, "You're hurt."  
  
What? I would laugh but I have no lungs. I feel no pain. I would speak, but I have no voice.  
  
Weightless, I begin to float away like a kite on a string.  
  
A voice from below says,  
  
Midvalley.  
  
The word means nothing.  
  
I float away without a downward look.  
  
I like it here.  
  
Lighter than air.  
  
Midvalley.  
  
The word is the string that holds me, a maddening bond I want to slip.  
  
Midvalley.  
  
The word is like a tug on the sleeve. I pull away, lighter and lighter and lighter until I hear the faintest of faintest voices whisper a name, like satin and velvet and honey to my ear.  
  
"Nicholas."  
  
And my weightless ascent stops and I hesitate.  
  
I remember the meaning of that name and I whisper it with lips I'd forgotten I had. Then gravity pulls me down like a lover's kiss. I plummet into airless, soundless black, a headlong rush into nothingness that stops when a hand catches me and gently lays me down.  
  
Then the honeyed voice whispers, "Sleep now."  
  
Sleep.  
  
Sleep, a soothing sound, sweet like the whisper of sifting drifting sand, a sound like silver, soft as silk, Silvia. 


	34. Scars

Scars  
  
I wake to sunlight pouring down on me. My head pounds and my stomach churns with nausea so severe that I don't make it to the toilet but throw up on the floor next to the mattress I lie on. The acid vomit burns my throat. Too weak to stand, I lie with the sour stink in my nose, the taste in my mouth while the veins in my head throb with pain. I have no coherent thoughts. After a while, I roll back to the middle of the bed and sleep.  
  
Dreams haunt me. A hazy blue cloud drifts across the golden moons in the night sky. Yes, the sky has eyes like Legato, and they watch me as he did at school. Furtive eyes peer from behind a veil of blue hair. Through the crack in his door as I walk past, I feel him watching me. I hear the hinges of the door squeak.  
  
The squeak turns to a whistle and I am with mama at the sandsteamer depot. She's going to New Paris to have a dress made, an elegant pink gown with ruffles and lace. With a child's eye view of the busy station, I see legs walk by and wonder why. There's the magazine stand, the shoeshine boy, food kiosks, and the balloon man.  
  
"Midvalley," I hear her lilting voice and I am back by her bedroom door again. Sweet and loving, she calls my name but I'm afraid to go to her, though my body hurts all over. She's dead. I know she's dead. I don't want to see the blood, brains and bone of her ruined face, but I go into the room, where she lies in the pink dress. I am drawn like a moth to the flame. I want to see her again. If she could just hold me, she could soothe my pain. I hurt. I hurt so much.  
  
I go to the bed where she lies. No sign of the gunshot wound, she is whole again, alive and well. In my joy, I kiss her cheek. Her lips curve into a smile, she opens her eyes and I float in golden depths.  
  
"Legato?"  
  
When I wake up, the room is lit by golden moonlight and I shiver with cold. From the smell I have pissed and shit myself. I gag on my own stench and throw up again. My head still aches. I am incapable and cannot will myself to move.  
  
I dream of the depot again and a legless beggar on a wheeled trolley board. I see a coin drop into his tin cup. A battered saxophone rests on his lap. It looks like Silvia, tarnished and dented. I look down at my useless legs and scream myself awake.  
  
Fever takes me. The sky looks down with golden orbs. Was that then or is this now? Past and present weave a surreal tapestry. Did I dream he kissed the hurt from my bruises? Did I feel the imprint of his lips on mine? Who's lips?  
  
I wake in a bed with clean sheets as Legato sponges my fevered body. When the water cools on my skin, I shiver with chills. He strips and lies beside me his skin against mine under the covers until I am warm again.  
  
I lose track of time, but every day the suns rise and the suns sets and in between, I go through the motions of living, filling and emptying this sack of flesh and bone, my body.  
  
I barely eat for food has lost its flavor. I sleep for life has lost its savor. I am empty of desire. Only the habits of heart and lungs keep me alive.  
  
I stare thoughtless into space and when I sleep, it is mostly naps, nothing too deep to bring on dreams again.  
  
Legato comes to see me. He looks weary and distressed and soon leaves.  
  
Leonof comes next and questions me. I don't remember what he wants to know.  
  
The Evergreen brings me letters. I set them aside, go back to bed and stare at the wall until blankness leads me into sleep.  
  
Days pass and then more days.  
  
Lenny comes to visit. He asks me something and I shrug.  
  
He repeats it and repeats it again.  
  
"Where's Silvia?"  
  
"She died," I say.  
  
"No, Middie, where's Silvia? Where's your sax?"  
  
He puts his hand on my shoulder and looks sad.  
  
I can't remember when I saw it last. I look around the room I stay in and see a bed with tangled sheets. The floor is piled with clothing and unopened mail. Fatigue overcomes me. The bed draws me like a magnet. I crawl under the sheets and stare at the wall. It barely registers when I hear the door shut. Then I remember that someone was here, but left. My eyes close and I rest.  
  
When I wake, decisions surround me. Some are easy. Food, water, air. My lungs breathe and my heart pumps. I drink and eat and piss and shit.  
  
But should I change my shirt. I don't know. The pink or the white? How long did I stand there deciding? I keep on my pink shirt. It reminds me of her and comforts me. Leonof gives me an odd look when he visits next. After he leaves, a puppet robot comes to shave me. It washes my bed linen and clothes that same day, then runs a bath for me and scrubs my back and picks out clothes for me to wear.  
  
Legato comes for me and takes me to his room. He takes off his white coat with the skull on the sleeve. He embraces me and starts to kiss me, but I cannot respond . He starts to undress me, but my body freezes and I choke out words, "Don't touch me."  
  
"I want to help you," says his velvet voice. I close my eyes when he tells me to and he finishes undressing me. He lays hands upon my body. His lips and tongue explore my torso. The cocoon of pain I live in starts to crack and I breathe a little faster. My body responds to his touch. I remember past pleasure and a fever in me builds as my tissues stretch and grow. He envelops my length in the heat of his mouth and I begin to move. I feel my face flush as sensations grow more intense. He seems to know what gives me pleasure, but when he starts to enter me, I moan for him to stop, but he penetrates me anyway, and it hurts. My heart beats like a frightened bird's. But he hushes me, calms my panic, and soothes away my body's fear.  
  
"I want to help you," he whispers. It doesn't hurt so bad once he is in me and he touches my tumid erection as he moves in me, and the heat builds again and I remember what to do. He fills me, strokes me, touches me and where he touches me, I feel alive again. My body speeds up and I sweat. I feel motion and pressure, his hand moving on me as he drives into me. I writhe and buck my way to a hot high peak until spasms jolt me and I cry out, "God!"  
  
When I opened my eyes, Legato was watching with a smile of satisfaction.  
  
"There's life in your eyes again," he said.  
  
Our bodies locked, my link flared open and I was in Legato's mind and he was in mine, though the link was shallow. I sensed pain in him and he withdrew from me at once. His cock was dry. He hadn't come in me.  
  
He refastened his pants and walked to the dining area in his quarters and opened a pink box that was sitting on the table. He pulled out a cheesecake, cut it and set a wedge of it on a plate.  
  
"Care for a slice?" he asked.  
  
"Please," I said. All of a sudden my appetite quickened. For the first time in I couldn't recall how long, I was ravenous.  
  
As for that cheesecake, I don't think I'll ever forget it. I nearly swooned when I tasted the delicate crust with its buttery crumbs, the tooth- tempting texture of the baked cream cheese with its sweet and sour tang accented by perfumed raspberry sauce and the subtle depth of the bittersweet chocolate truffle spattered across the tenderly browned surface. It was as if I had never eaten before. When I saw Legato's tongue lick the cream from the tines of his fork, a sexual excitation so intense stole over that I found myself aroused.  
  
I took the fork from his hand and slid my tongue in his mouth. He sighed and sucked mine as if it were a voluptuous dessert. Tongue on tongue, groins throbbing in unison, the beat of our pulses in tune, I wanted him.  
  
I had other hungers to feed. I was starved for the feel of skin on skin. My empty arms craved the fullness of a body to stroke. My hands and cock wanted his body, my mouth was hungry for his. I wanted more. I was drunk with a lust for intimacy.  
  
"What do you want , Midvalley?" he asked with a languorous curiosity.  
  
I didn't say a word but sat him down on the bed. I knelt at his feet and pulled off his ankle boots and his socks. He didn't move to help me but he didn't stop me. Then I unfastened his pants, eased him onto his back and slid them down and off. I frowned with concern when I saw scars on his legs, but dismissed the feeling as I removed his black knit shirt. I pushed the fabric up to his armpits and felt a little sick to see slash marks on his belly. He lifted his chest and I peeled the shirt away. I caught a brief glimpse of marks on his cheek, curtained when his hair fell again to drape his face. He did not want to meet my eyes. He turned over and I felt queasy when I saw his backside. Crisscrossed with scars from his neck to his buttocks, Legato had been used hard in the years since we last made love.  
  
"What's the matter, Hornfreak. Lost your appetite?" he asked.  
  
I almost wished I had, but the feeling passed, and I was hard as a rock. There was something erotic about his scars, I reached out to touch them. His skin was so hot, I wondered if he was hot inside.  
  
"Hurt me, Midvalley," he said. "Put it in me now."  
  
I pushed my cock into him. I know it hurt him, but he moaned perversely as if he enjoyed it.  
  
He gave me the velvet of his voice, while I fucked him dry.  
  
"Harder, Midvalley."  
  
He was hot and his sheathe too tight for comfort, but the painful friction roused me and his voice spurred me on.  
  
"Fuck me, hit me, hurt me," he whispered over and over. I didn't want to and hesitated.  
  
"Do it," he commanded, and I raked my nails across his back and his penis hardened.  
  
I got harder still at his response and began to rut in him.  
  
"Hurt me, bite me, make me bleed," he urged me.  
  
I bore down, clamped my jaws on his neck where other teeth had left their mark until his blood flowed and I sucked it.  
  
He cried out when I did that. His excitement stirred my passion and I redoubled my strokes. The heat in my groin built to the boiling point.  
  
He was getting close to climax as the blood dripped from his neck.  
  
I bent close over his back and thrust in harder and deeper, my teeth in his neck, biting, my nails on his chest clawing while his voice whispered and goaded me on, "I'm worthless.hurt me. I'm garbage.fuck me hard.I'm nothing. Make me bleed.I'm dirt.cut me.fuck me."  
  
I fucked him as hard as I could and plunged ferocious with animal vigor. When I ripped the skin of his back with my nails and he felt the blood flow, he shot out his hot load , his body trembling under me. With his blood in my mouth, I came as hard as I have ever come in my life with a discharge that felt like white heat. My pulse roared in my ears and my heart quaked at the strength of my orgasm.  
  
Locked together now, our link opened wider.  
  
I am washed in the salt ocean of his pain. Blood and scars, lacerations, agony. I look at the body below me with the marks of my brutality on him and begin to sob.  
  
I hate myself.  
  
I look at the wounds on his body and am struck by the desire to cover them with kisses.  
  
I turn him over, kiss his lips and the link between us opens wider. More pain washes over me. Self-loathing, self-hatred, self-disgust and despair. I break the contact, and Legato looks at me as though he'd made a point.  
  
I have an idea. I go into his bathroom, while he lies on his bed. In his bathroom cabinet, I find a bottle of sun cream. The sight of it tickles some memory, but there are still gaps in my mind.  
  
When I return, he's still lying on his back, his golden eye observes me, curious. The gold of that eye reminds me of Silvia's gold. The torso below me has keys to finger, like Silvia. I have played him before and I know what used to give him pleasure.  
  
Though the link between us is open, I empty myself of pain and hate and find that space, where I am hollow as my horn. I let the memory of my frenzied bloodlust drift away. I oil my hands with the lotion and begin to smooth his chest with long, deep, strong, strokes.  
  
I close my eyes, but my fingers have eyes of their own and seek out his pain. His body is tight, tense and fearful, but little by little he accustoms himself to my touch, his tension begins to ease, and he sighs as his muscles relax. He's not an angel, he's not a god, he is a man, and my hands remind him of that fact. He cannot deny the truth of it.  
  
I run my palms over his scarred flesh and healing energy flows through me. The pain in his shoulders lessens.  
  
I see the scar where his left arm was grafted on.  
  
"Be careful with it," he murmurs with his eyes closed.  
  
He pays attention to the lessons that my hands teach him and with each sigh he releases like a sob, his pain eases.  
  
Odd how much cooler that limb is than the rest of him, I think, and inches longer than his right arm and much more pale, even against his pale skin.  
  
I massage his chest. It pains me to see slash marks across his nipples. They are old scars, but I am ashamed of the ones that I have just inflicted. The muscles around his chest are very tense and he cannot let loose. He guards a wounded heart, I think.  
  
Then he turns over and I close my mouth on a sob to see the fresh lacerations on his tortured body. I empty myself of pity and all emotion. I can do him no good with my pity. I open myself to healing. His neck and shoulders are rigid with the weight of the burdens he carries. I begin to have some understanding of what Leonof and the Evergreen mean when they tell me that Legato needs someone to share his responsibilities. I slide my oiled palms over the cruel scars on his back and buttocks and feel through the link the pain he felt when he got them. I hear Knives' jeering voice and feel the self-loathing of the man before me, but I empty myself and feel those wounds begin to heal.  
  
When I touch his buttocks, I know they hold the history of his pain. I stroke him until the muscles grow slack and I feel his body open to me. Touch begins to heal him and trust between us grows. When I turn him over again, his body is languid and pliant under my hands. I straddle his stomach and my fingers seek to soften his tightly clenched heart and I feel the knots of his pain begin to melt, and flow away. When I feel he is as empty as I am, I kiss him gently and he responds in kind.  
  
There is no pain in our link now. I remember what used to give him pleasure in our long-ago love affair and remind him with my tongue..  
  
It is an expert coupling, two empaths feeling each touch of the other-- knowing what pleased, knowing what pained and careful now to avoid that razor's edge, if only for the moment.  
  
We tantalize each other building tension between us. Tongues lick and lap. Lips nip and smoothly pressure sensitive flesh, arousing erectile tissue just short of release. With both of us wordless and gasping, we push each other to climax, and after, lie naked in easy familiarity, our minds and bodies joined  
  
It charmed me that he made an effort afterward, to keep things light between us. We knew we each still bore the scars of unhealed wounds.  
  
"That felt good," he finally said. "Didn't it, Midvalley?"  
  
I grunted in reply.  
  
"Here, I restore you from your state of idiocy and you're incoherent again," he teased me.  
  
I smiled in response.  
  
"Thank you," I said.  
  
I was grateful to him. It felt like I had been buried alive, before he healed me. I had missed light, color, music, sensation, and intimacy. He had given me back my life.  
  
I sensed emotions he could not give words to, but his tone was wistful when he said, "We should go out. We could go to the White Cat Saloon and you could bring your saxophone along. It's been months since I heard you play and I've missed your music."  
  
"Has it been months?"  
  
"Master Knives has been very demanding," he said. "I wanted to heal you earlier, but I wasn't strong enough. I'm better now."  
  
"So am I," I said. "When I used my healing just now, I didn't even feel ill."  
  
"We'll go tonight then?" he asked. "Just the two of us?"  
  
"Sure," I said, as I dressed.  
  
I walked back to my room, pleased about so many little things. That I felt so good, that I had eased Legato's pain, that I actually remembered the way back without being led by a robot. My brain worked again, though my memory was still spotty. I was happy with the idea that I would be playing Silvia again.  
  
When I entered the room, I was appalled when I saw how messy it was. I realized that I must have been pretty far gone to let it get into that state. I am not an untidy person by nature and was surprised to see the accumulated piles of clothing on the floor.  
  
I was worried about Silvia and dug frantically under the heaped clothes and stacks of unopened mail trying to find her. I finally saw the edge of her case under some rumpled bed linens jumbled in a dark corner of the room. At least I hadn't left her in a place where the sun hit her, I thought with some relief. However close to brain-dead I might have been, at least I had some sort of instinct that had kept Silvia from any great harm.  
  
When I opened the case to inspect her, I was glad to see that she wasn't in very rough shape, though the dried-out reed was shot. I opened the box that I'd bought at Monk's music, how long ago, I wasn't quite sure. I trimmed a couple of the fresh reeds, poured a slug of whiskey and put them in it to soak. Then I tightened some loose screws and polished her up. My hands trembled with excitement. Just to hold her in my hands again was bliss. I longed to play her again.  
  
I began to tidy the room. My eye fell on my packed luggage duffle. I couldn't remember the last trip I had taken and wondered how long it had sat there. Legato had said it had been months since he heard me play.  
  
I pulled out a couple of suits from my luggage, one of burgundy crushed velvet and a chartreuse suit. There were two silk shirts, one pink and one yellow. The yellow-green suit still smelled of sonic cleaning fluid and there was a faint stain on it. I wondered what had caused the stain. At the bottom of the bag, I found a crumpled white shirt with dark brown stains that looked like dried blood.  
  
I got an agitated feeling from holding the shirt. There was something about it, that I felt I should remember. There was a hole in the shirt and holes in my memory.  
  
There must have been three months of accumulated mail, quite a few from banks, tour promoters, musicians whose names I recognized and a handful of letters from Orleans Orphanage and my heart lurched when I saw letters from Nicholas D. Wolfwood. My hands fumbled to open the first as my memory quickened . I ripped the envelope open and the letter partly tore.  
  
Dear Midvalley,  
  
Thanks for the quick note. I'm sorry I didn't get to see you again before you left, but I know how it is when you get the call from headquarters.  
  
I've missed you so much. Still I can't thank you enough for what you did for me and the money you spent just so I could be back with the kids here. You were absolutely right though, about it making me feel better. The doctor tells me that that in a month or so I can travel again and I'll be heading your way as soon as possible, to thank you in person.  
  
Sister Luz showed me the check from the benefit. $$25,000. For a guy who doesn't believe in heaven, you've got a nice insurance policy. The way I look at it, the Lord has just got to let someone as generous as you into heaven when the time comes, whether you believe or not.  
  
I suppose I should tell you, that Doctor Reed and Ruby have decided to stay and be our medical staff. Dr. Reed has fallen in love with the town of December and Ruby has fallen in love with the children. We have more help, thanks to you.  
  
I can hardly wait to see you again. Annie and Blackie send their love and so do I.  
  
Nick  
  
Oh shit! Nick! My heart ached as it all came back with a rush. I felt sick and ashamed. I just spent the afternoon fucking Legato. Or had we made love? I sank to the floor. Was it love or lust? What have I done? I would go crazy if I thought of that now. I tore open the next envelope.  
  
Dear Midvalley,  
  
Did you fucking fall into a hole? What's going on? Did your arm fall off and you can't write? Forgive me if I seem a little upset, but I haven't had word about a blackout at headquarters. Please write soon. I'm worried about you.  
  
I know you've been a bad correspondent in the past, but for God's sake, let me know you're all right. I'm going just a little crazy. I miss you, you know.  
  
Nick  
  
What was the date on the envelope? From three weeks ago.  
  
I ripped open the next.  
  
Dear Midvalley,  
  
Lenny dropped by to visit today. He told me he saw you and that you look like hell and are completely out of it. Is it your illness again? He barely recognized you.  
  
I can't stand it anymore, partner. I'm just too worried. I'm feeling almost 100 percent again and I'm getting on the next standsteamer and I should be arriving in less than a week's time.  
  
All my love.  
  
Nick  
  
I was engulfed in memories that crashed down on me like a tidal wave.  
  
For the second time that day, I hated myself.  
To Be Continued 


	35. Fear and Loathing

Fear and Loathing  
  
When my self-disgust was at its greatest, I found myself making up excuses for behavior and even practicing lies in front of the bathroom mirror while I shaved.  
  
There were so many things that I didn't want to tell Nick but there were some things that I couldn't hide from him.  
  
The violence of the sex with Legato had thrilled me. To think I'd accused E.G. Mine of being a sick fuck! Sure he'd drawn lots with Zazie for the privilege of killing Dominique, a woman he'd lusted after. But even though I 'm no stranger to odd sexual quirks and fetishes being raised in a whorehouse as I was, I was ashamed of what I'd done to Legato, even though he seemed to enjoy it. I began to wonder if Knives having sex with me was part of some strange foreplay with Legato.  
  
I couldn't say for sure what went on between the two, but I could see that a steady diet of Knives' company had scarred Legato.  
  
I had a few scars of my own and sighed out loud when I thought about it and a feeling of sadness and vulnerability ran through me.  
  
I could tell Nick I was raped and leave out the details. I could tell him that I was sick afterward, and that was the truth. My face was haggard enough. I'm sure Nick would believe me. But if he wanted to know details, I didn't think that I could bring myself to talk about it.  
  
Now I had the added complication of Legato to deal with. I really hadn't been thinking clearly when I'd had sex with him. I was driven by appetite, and had basically just followed my instincts like the promiscuous slut I'd always been until I fell in love with Nick. One little lapse of memory and I go back to doing what comes naturally. What had Nick said about me? Just because it has legs and a hole, you don't have to fuck it. I'd been upset at the insult, but have to admit that he'd had it right.  
  
And now Legato wanted to go out to the White Cat Saloon.just the two of us, he'd said. How cozy! But what if Nick showed up. He might arrive on the afternoon sandsteamer, and the saloon would be one of the first places he'd look for me, and if I'm with Legato, then what? Well, he knew that I was assigned to be Legato's assistant, and that's what he'd think. I could just not say anything and Nick could assume that we were there on business, or whatever he wanted.  
  
That would work fine if Legato kept his hands off me, but there were no guarantees of that. Legato seemed to want my friendship. But of course, he also wanted more than that.  
  
Nick was due in anytime. It depended on what steamer he took back. What had the letter said? I couldn't remember exactly. Was I still missing a few screws? I walked back with the lather still on my face to reread the letter. "The next sandsteamer" it said then I realized something.  
  
"He's probably here already," I said to myself. I wondered if he brought along his motorcycle. What if he showed up while I was out at the White Cat with Legato. What if Legato were to kiss me and Nick saw? I felt sick to my stomach at the visualization and couldn't imagine a plausible lie that would cover that situation.  
  
What could I say? He was just taking my temperature with his tongue and found out I was hot! Haha, real funny, Midvalley. God! Not that old joke. No, it wasn't funny. It was pathetic the way I seemed to be grasping at straws to hide my shame.  
  
I was worried that I'd lose my lover. The dialog was improbable but affection from Legato was a distinct possibility. Suddenly I didn't want to go at all.  
  
Maybe I would just skip going to the saloon , stay in my room and play Silvia. But what lie could I possibly tell Legato? Sorry, I'm not feeling very well? He'll know through the link that I'm lying, And it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if he were to say, "No, problem, Hornfreak. Why don't we just stay inside and fuck some more? You'll feel so much better." I found myself imitating Legato's suave voice. What if Nick walked in on that? I started to panic. I was driving myself crazy.  
  
Then I had another thought that made me happy, and suddenly I didn't care about the rest. Nick was coming to see me and I could hardly wait. If Legato wanted more fun and games, I'd just say no.  
  
I just couldn't stand the idea of lying to Nick so, I finally figured out that I'd just tell him the truth if he asked. I walked back into the bathroom to continue my shave and could look at the face I saw in the mirror with some complacency.  
  
My thoughts of Nick left me with a good feeling and I reached out for him through my link and found Legato instead, to my surprise.  
  
"Getting ready for our evening out?" his voice purred in my head.  
  
I backed out of the link , but he didn't pursue the contact which relieved me. Still he must have known what was going on in my mind.  
  
I wonder what Legato thought about us. I respected him and was grateful, hell, I even felt for the difficulty of his life, but I was not in love with him. I was in love with Nick and no matter how badly I had screwed up, I held out hope that Nick wouldn't hold it against me.  
  
Legato probably already knew about the letters Nicholas sent me. Evergreen had delivered them to me and Chapel the Evergreen held nothing back from Legato. The Evergreen and Legato probably even knew which sandsteamer Nick came in on and where he was staying.  
  
I looked through my closet for a suit to wear. I found one that I hadn't worn for quite a while. It was double-breasted made out of purple sharkskin fabric with brass buttons that matched Silvia's shade. I thought fondly of Silvia as I pulled on a pale lavender shirt. I'd gotten so slender from my illness, it was loose on me. I left the collar open at the throat. The scar on my neck had faded so much that I really had to look closely to see where the cut from the razor had been. I pulled on socks and fastened my wingtips.  
  
My thoughts were all of Nick, but I felt Legato reaching through the link. I'm sure he knew what I was thinking and feeling so I picked up Silvia, put in one of the reeds I had soaked and softly played.  
  
I was out of practice, so it felt particularly good to hold her in my arms and lose myself in the sound of her. I didn't know until then how much I'd missed her. Even though I hadn't played for so long, some of the songs were so familiar to me that my muscles remembered the fingering even though my mind had forgotten the titles of the pieces. Eventually I started hitting the notes the way I intended. I fell into a trance as I followed the flow of the notes and lost track of time until a knock on the door pulled me back to reality.  
  
It was Legato.  
  
"I heard your playing when I was walking outside the building. It felt good to hear your music again," he said.  
  
"Thanks," I replied.  
  
"I see you're all dressed up," he said.  
  
"Uh, about tonight." I began. I wanted to tell him that I didn't want to go because I was expecting a visit from Nick, but he didn't give me the chance.  
  
"That's why I'm here," he interjected smoothly.  
  
I was confused and I looked at him with a question in my eyes.  
  
"I'm afraid we'll have to cancel our plans," he said by way of explanation.  
  
I was quite relieved when he said that, but also a bit curious, "Why?" I asked.  
  
"The Master requires our presence at the mansion this evening."  
  
I don't know how I maintained my outward composure when he said that, but I'm sure Legato knew it was only a façade and sensed the sheer animal panic that lay beneath the surface.  
  
"He is healed, isn't he, Legato?" I asked. A positive response would do a lot to ease my worried mind.  
  
"Yes, I would say that Master Knives is at 100%," he informed me.  
  
"So it's a business meeting then?" I asked for confirmation.  
  
Legato seemed distracted and did not answer. I wished that he looked more at ease. Then he reached up and touched the back of my neck. A shock went through me at his touch. He slid his hand slowly down the lapel of my jacket.  
  
"I remember this suit from years ago," he said as his hands slid back up my chest and fingered the collar. "It always looked good on you. It shows off your broad shoulders and that slender waist."  
  
I didn't want to thank him for the compliment on my physical appearance. With the thought of Nick arriving soon, I didn't want Legato thinking about my body at all, and I surely didn't want to comment on his. I couldn't help noticing though when I was with him that morning, that despite the scars that marred his skin, Legato's body was well-knit and beautifully formed.  
  
"Thanks for the compliment," he said with a faint smile, though I'd said nothing out loud.  
  
I thought of something to change the subject.  
  
"I wanted to thank you, Legato, for saving my life," I said.  
  
"I hope you still feel that way, after tonight," he said in a way that set my nerves on edge. I couldn't tell what he was getting at or if he was only joking, but I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  
  
I waited for an explanation, but the next thing he said was, "We should go, the Master is expecting us."  
  
Legato's behavior was too cryptic for me to interpret. Though I shared an empathic link with the man and generally picked up on his pain and lonely feelings, he was better able to hide his deeper emotions than I was, or he had ice water in his veins.  
  
I tried to sense a little deeper. There was something in the way he held his body, that made me think that he was sad.  
  
"You could take Silvia with you," Legato told me. "There may be a bit of a wait and perhaps we could still go out to the saloon later."  
  
Master Knives mansion looked eerie by moonlight. It was tended at this hour by a number of Leonof's puppets. One of them guided us to a dimly lit room outside Knives' master suite. I took Silvia out of her case and began to play her softly. Legato seemed glad of the distraction. I know I was.  
  
We must have waited nearly an hour. Then abruptly, the door of the suite opened and Knives stuck his head out, saw us in the shadows, said, "You," and he gestured at Legato.  
  
Knives held open the door while Legato made his way across the room and through the open door and then with an unreadable glance at me, Knives closed the door after him.  
  
I didn't want to think what might be going on in that room. I hoped for the best of course, but when anxiety began to get the best of me, I started to play Silvia again. My feelings took me into a minor key and I couldn't seem to keep the memories of my rape at bay. As I played , the air began to thicken and the crystals in the chandelier began to tinkle and windows in the room began to tremble in their frames. I somehow recalled who and where I was and managed to stop myself short of blowing the place up.  
  
Master Knives opened the door to his room and beckoned me with a brusque wave of the hand.  
  
I walked into a room as shadowy as the one I had left and as my eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, I saw instantly that Master Knives had other guests.  
  
Grey Nine-lives stood in a corner. His head nearly brushed the room's high ceiling.  
  
Hoppered the Gauntlet was on the floor off to the left of where I stood. I could have reached out and touched him. He gave me a glance and a nod, "Hornfreak," he murmured in greeting.  
  
Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen were seated side by side on a loveseat silently watching my entrance.  
  
I saw the small figure of Zazie the Beast standing by the room's French windows watching fireflies outside wink on and off. So he was there as well. Someone was missing, I thought and then it came to me and I looked for the quietest of the Gung-ho-guns. I finally spied Caine standing still as a statue almost invisible against the wall. She made no move to acknowledge me.  
  
Legato was standing by Knives, watching him attentively. The Master sat a small circular table sipping a glass of red wine. He was dressed in a two piece suit of white leather with his hair impeccably groomed his eyes brilliant even in the dim light of a chandelier's glow. My heart skipped a beat when I looked at him. I finally saw the charismatic spark in him that my father had found so compelling. It seemed that Knives needed a bigger audience to bring out his showmanship.  
  
His first words to me as I entered were, "I'm pleased that you thought better of blowing up my mansion."  
  
I chuckled low and noted that the casual humor with which he'd spoken the phrase lightened the mood of the somber group in the room. I heard some nervous laughter from Zazie and even the Evergreen and Leonof obliged with thin smiles.  
  
So this was how Knives acted as a leader of men.and women I thought, as I recalled Caine's presence.  
  
Knives cocked an eyebrow at my laughter and then raised his voice an addressed us all.  
  
"The purpose of this meeting is to inspire you," he said.  
  
I must admit that none of us looked or felt inspired at that moment. In fact it would have been harder to find a more dispirited group and I think that Master Knives realized that.  
  
He raised his voice to a more strident note saying, "I expressed a desire that my brother be found some months ago, but somehow get the sense that my wishes are not being taken seriously."  
  
He paused.  
  
No one wanted his anger so I could see the others making themselves as inconspicuous as possible.  
  
Knives continued,".but since I have also done my best to find him and did not succeed, I suppose that I cannot fault you for your failure at this time."  
  
I sensed that there was a perceptible relief in all of us at this announcement.  
  
"Still," he went on, "With so many informants in my pay and the mayors of so many towns in my pocket, I find that this continuing failure surprises me and has come to annoy me." His exasperation showed in the harshness of his tone.  
  
"I believe you all know that it's best that my annoyance is kept to a minimum, wouldn't you agree?" he said with a bland tone that held an undercurrent of menace.  
  
Whatever sense of relief we'd felt dried up.  
  
"I want action on this," demanded Knives. "To this end, I am taking some extraordinary steps. I am closing the academy because I want you all working on this. There will be no need for administrators or guest instructors with the shut down. I want an all-out effort to find my brother.  
  
He turned to the Puppetmaster.  
  
"Leonof," he said, "I want you to marshal every puppet you have. I want one in every town programmed to recognize Vash the Stampede on sight. Fit them with transmitters. I want daily reports on their progress. Grey Nine- Lives will assist you on this. You will work alternating shifts. I want around the clock surveillance until my brother is found.  
  
"As you wish, Master," said Leonof meekly. The old man was all respect.  
  
"Evergreen," said Knives and the priest raised his red eyes to face him, "since you run the network of religious informants, if my brother steps into a church, a hospital, orphanage and wherever else you have agents in place, I want to know about it. I want daily reports if he has been seen or not. Is that clear?"  
  
"I see what you want," said the Evergreen.  
  
Then he addressed us all.  
  
"I expect you to circulate my brother's picture to all your informants. I have also had some pictures made up to show how he might appear in various disguises with facial hair, dark glasses, a different hairstyle, and less flamboyant clothing. I'm sure when he's found, he won't be wearing a red coat."  
  
I nodded at this. I suspected the same. Vash the Stampede was laying so low, he appeared to have dropped off the planet.  
  
"Zazie the Beast," said Master Knives, and the boy turned from the windows to face him.  
  
"I want you to contact the hive mind and relay the results to me daily. Furthermore, my brother has an inexplicable fondness for children. I want you to start traveling. I expect you to come up with some respectable leads from your contact with the hive mind and your fellow agents. Infiltrate yourself into the lives of the kids on the street. Join bands of homeless children. Show my brother's picture around. Tell them he's your father and you've got to find him. I want daily progress reports."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Zazie.  
  
"Hoppered," Knives announced next as he looked down at the misshapen form of the Gauntlet, "Your responsibility is transportation. If a person resembling my brother takes a sandsteamer, a bus, rents a vehicle or a tomas, I want that information. Understood?"  
  
Hoppered twisted his head up and responded, "Yes, sir, I understand."  
  
Then Knives fixed his intense blue eyes on me.  
  
"Midvalley the Hornfreak," he said, "I want you to use your contacts in the music world, taverns, bars, saloons and night clubs. If my brother starts hanging out in such places getting drunk and disorderly, I want to know. He drinks to excess and has a history of frequenting such places. It's very likely that when he surfaces again, that that's just the kind of place he might be found. Traveling musicians are well-placed to get the kind of information I need. I expect you to share all the information from the informant cells that you met through Mr. McCoy . I expect daily reports on their activities from you."  
  
"Agreed," I said, "but I have a question," I said. "Do you want your brother found alive or dead? I'd like to point out that he does have a sixty billion double dollar bounty on his head. With us circulating so many pictures, what if someone decides they want to collect. That much money could turn the head of a lot of our informants, but I'm assuming that since you want him found so badly, you want him alive, no?"  
  
"You seem to have a genius for stating the obvious, Hornfreak, but yes, I want my brother alive. I expect you all to make it clear to your contacts that if they try to collect the bounty, they will die in horrible pain. If they cooperate, they will be well rewarded. I think that you are very well aware of the degree of pain that I can inflict," he said and stared at me with a predatory look until I dropped my eyes.  
  
"After my brother is found," Knives went on, " I have already hand-picked an individual who will protect him and guide him back to me."  
  
I wondered if he meant Nicholas or Legato.  
  
"But of course my brother has to be found first," the Master said with obvious sarcasm and then turned his attention to Legato.  
  
"Legato Bluesummers," he said, "you have made a study of my brother. Perhaps you understand him even better than I do. I need you to bend your efforts to beating the bushes for him and flushing him out. You know best how to work on him. Mass murder, mayhem, crucifixions, public executions-- you know how to get his attention. Make sure whatever you do gets splashy headlines."  
  
"Of course, Master. I shall keep your words in the forefront of my mind," murmured Legato.  
  
"Caine?" asked Knives.  
  
"Yes, sir?" came the soft voice from the wall.  
  
"You will continue undercover at the Bernadelli agency and send weekly reports on the activities of the two agents who were assigned to keep tabs on my brother. If they attempt to contact my brother, I want to know about it immediately.  
  
"Yes, sir," said Caine.  
  
"Good," said Knives. "Any questions or comments?"  
  
The room was silent.  
  
"No? Then a little matter of protocol. Legato is my personal aide and will have access to your daily reports. The Hornfreak will assist him and also monitor reports daily. He is next in the chain of command. If for any reason you cannot contact Legato or me, you will make your reports to the Hornfreak."  
  
I was surprised that he had given me such a vote of confidence.  
  
"You're dismissed," he told us.  
  
I turned at once to leave. As interesting as the meeting had been, I had hopes of seeing Nick before the evening was over, but Knives stopped me in my tracks.  
  
"Stick around, Hornfreak. What's your hurry."  
  
I turned around and noted the other Gung-ho Guns sidling inconspicuously through the door. I could tell that they were glad not to be me.  
  
"Legato was telling me about your plans for the evening. I hope you don't mind," said Knives with a mocking tone, "but I invited myself along. You have no objections, do you?"  
  
I realized that it wouldn't do me any good if I had any, so I said, "No."  
  
Master Knives laughed, "Legato's been right about everything he told me about you."  
  
I didn't know what Knives was referring to, but I felt enough negativity in the emotions through the link we had established between us to feel uneasy at his laugher.  
  
He threw open the doors, smiled broadly and invited Legato and me to follow him, "Let's go!"  
  
To be continued. 


	36. A Killer Horn Solo

A Killer Horn Solo  
  
Knives was in an odd mood as we walked to the White Cat Saloon. I would never have known from his easy loping stride that he had ever been crippled. I could see now the raw sexuality he exuded, a potent combination of vitality and self-assurance packaged in an elegantly sculpted body. He walked two steps ahead of me and a half step ahead of Legato.  
  
"You're a man of few words this evening, Hornfreak. I'm curious about how you spent your day. This morning you were a vegetable. I suppose my able assistant, Legato was able to work the miracle with his healing ability and now you're able to walk and talk at the same time and button the buttons on your clothes. It's an improvement," he sneered, "but, tell me, how did he do it?"  
  
I could read his angry mood loud and clear. He already knew, so why was he asking? He sounded jealous.  
  
"I guess it was a little like what you did with me," I offered.  
  
Knives turned to Legato and asked him, "Can you tell me if he's being subtle or stupid. I can't quite figure him out."  
  
"I think that was subtlety, Master."  
  
"You know him so intimately.Should I trust you to tell me the truth, Legato?"  
  
"Of course, Master."  
  
"So did you kiss him?" asked Knives.  
  
"There may have been some contact of that nature."  
  
"You know I don't approve of that. What happened after you fucked him?"  
  
"Why, he felt better, Master."  
  
"You look like you feel better, Legato. You look too relaxed. Did he do something to you?"  
  
"Nothing to speak of, my lord," said Legato.  
  
"But I want you to speak of it," countered Knives, "yet you give me vague generalities. I think you want to keep something from me. I'll ask the Hornfreak."  
  
"What did you do to Legato?" he asked me.  
  
"I gave him a massage," I said.  
  
Knives snickered, "I'll just bet you did. So you have some talent along those lines as well. I heard rumors of your sexual exploits. You started out quite young I hear. I heard you were turning tricks at the White Cat Saloon in your teens."  
  
" I don't know where you heard that rumor. I never sold my body for money," I said.  
  
"Oh really?" said Knives, "then just what is it you do for me?" He burst out in laughter as if he had just made the best joke in the world.  
  
"I heard you gave blowjobs in the alley behind the White Cat Saloon. I heard you let them fuck you up the ass. I heard you liked it rough," he whispered in a confidential tone.  
  
Legato looked frozen.  
  
"Not particularly," I responded, but inside I was quaking. He had reawakened my memories of the rape and my mood began to darken.  
  
Since I volunteered nothing further, Knives dominated the conversation as he had from the beginning. It was more of a monologue really, with Legato injecting parenthetical comments. There was something quite feminine about Legato's submissiveness with Knives and to me it appeared artificial, but Knives seemed not to notice.  
  
I didn't want to engage either of them in conversation. I wanted to reach out with my link and get a sense of Nick's presence, but found my link to him blocked by the proximity of Knives and Legato because of the relative recency of my intimacy with them.  
  
With that option cut off, I decided to listen and observe as much for my own safety as for any other reason. Knives was one of the most dangerous individuals I had ever spent time with. I watched the way Knives and Legato interacted with the same careful respect that I would show any lethal predator.  
  
Legato was everything that was solicitous and servile. With his empathic gift and as attuned to Knives as he was, I was sure that he was receptive to every small nuance of feeling that he caught from Knives.  
  
Knives treated Legato as a man might treat a well-trained pet. He gave him just that kind of encouragement., the same that he had shown to me when he applauded me for my cleverness or showed me where I fell short, but there was also an undercurrent of anger in Knives feelings towards Legato.  
  
Then I thought, no, not as a pet--he sees us more like work animals, such as a watch dog that he could kill with out a second thought. He appreciated our ability to do a job for him, despite his contempt for our very existence.  
  
My reverie was interrupted when I heard Knives say, "You've got it wrong, Hornfreak. It's not your animal nature that I have a problem with. It's your pretension in presuming that you're anything more. I can understand your sweaty grappling with the priest or Legato. Its pleasure you're after. What I don't understand is that after a little while, you confuse that feeling with love. I think it's a problem with your basic programming.  
  
A bitch in heat has more honesty. At least she is trying to preserve the species. As for you, the fevered groping serves to release physical tension--nothing more. But humans insist on calling it love. It's part of the tendency of the species towards self-hypnosis."  
  
"Don't give me that blank look, Legato," he continued. "You're as prone to it as any of them You cringe like a whipped dog, because what you really want is for me to treat you as an equal and you know I never will. I should never have given you the arm. It has given you delusions of grandeur. Your bleeding heart disgusts me. Your emotions cling to me like filth. Stop it, Legato."  
  
"As you wish, Master."  
  
"It was almost refreshing in comparison, fucking the Hornfreak. At least he didn't spill his sloppy emotions over me the way you do. And now I have to deal with your jealousy?  
  
I could take the arm back and put it back in stasis. You didn't really think I'd allow you to keep it forever.Yes, I'll just take it back and be done with you."  
  
"As you wish, Master,"  
  
For the life of me, there was something about the interaction between the two that reminded me of a lover's spat. It would have been comical if Knives hadn't been in such dead earnest.  
  
"Let me touch his hand, Legato," said Knives in a tone that was almost amorous. Legato extended his arm to Knives with seductive slowness and they walked hand in hand for a while.  
  
I couldn't understand Legato at all. He had healed me that very morning, but his motives eluded me. I reached out to touch him through the link we had, but he blocked off as much of his emotions as he could. I wondered if he was using me to somehow get back at Knives and awaken his feelings of jealousy. If he had, his ploy seemed to be working like a charm. Knives couldn't see his own behavior, but I could. There was an intense chemistry between the two. Though I was somehow the catalyst of this jealous drama, I felt in a way that it had nothing to do with me.  
  
And yet, there had been more between Legato and me when we had sex. There was an unspoken declaration of--I couldn't call it love, but there appeared to be a strong kinship between us. I had felt sympathy for him, and even the stirring of passion.  
  
After a minute or two of the contact, Knives dropped Legato's hand and began to berate him again, "I won't be manipulated by your attempts to make me jealous. You'd use anyone, including your friend, the Hornfreak. I'm a little sick of the game, but I know how to end it. Why don't you tell him about the rape, Legato, or shall I?"  
  
I stared at Knives, who considered me with a pitying sneer. I got gooseflesh from the look he gave me.  
  
"Did you forget I know all your dirty little secrets, Legato, including today's. You call yourself loyal?"  
  
"It was just for the healing. I assure you he can prove useful to you, Master."  
  
"He was useful to you, Legato, but I think that will end when he finds out."  
  
Knives turned to me and said with a smile, "He set you up, Hornfreak."  
  
I wasn't sure what he meant but I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  
  
"No," I said.  
  
"Oh, yes, Hornfreak. It was years ago, but Legato orchestrated the whole thing. He hired the men at the White Cat who raped you. They used a choke chain as I recall from his memories. Did you know he watched the whole thing before he came like an angel of mercy to rescue you. And you've always been so grateful to your benefactor. Did you show him your gratitude this morning? How do you feel about him now?"  
  
I felt as though the earth had opened at my feet and I almost longed for it to swallow me and end this. It was too much. I looked at Legato who walked alongside me, an arm's length away. His betrayal hit me hard. My feelings must have shown on my face. I wondered that he could meet my eyes at all. When he did he shook his head as if to deny Knives' accusation.  
  
Was he trying to tell me he hadn't done it? But I remembered my dream and his voice, saying, "I'm here, Midvalley. Help me," just before they dragged me down the alley. The certainty overwhelmed me. He had done it.  
  
"Why, Legato? Why?" I breathed and tears stung at my eyes, but I would not let them fall. My memories of the rape assailed me.'Pretty pink whore.that can't be no man's ass.I'll kill you first and fuck you after'.the memories of their words. what they did to me.a feeling of horror and disgust ran through me. I felt a sudden desire to run, but could not. The revelation had shocked me.  
  
"Legato." I couldn't say the word without wanting to vomit. I walked for a few more steps in a daze and then we were within earshot of the White Cat Saloon and I heard music, and it wasn't just any music.  
  
The first thing I heard was an exciting fevered pounding of drums and cymbals, then the smooth deep rhythm of a bass guitar, fingered fast and clean. Someone on piano played aggressive stride style with the left hand while the melody from the right hand rippled like water from the keys. I heard the strident scrape of a bow on fiddle strings and two master guitarmen trading off seamlessly on rhythm and lead. It was the Midvalley Seven, I nodded in recognition and I hastened my steps. I had to get away. I had to play Silvia. It was the only way I could get these thoughts out of my head. Hell, Nick might even be in town waiting for me at the saloon. I tried to smile at that thought, but my heart was too heavy. Then an inimitable flurry of golden notes from a trumpet floated out into the night and I knew that Hot Lips was in town.  
  
I burst through the doors with a need to feel clean. The music called me, I wasn't quite sure what great tune they were playing but I heard it three times by the time I made it across the floor. I unsnapped the fastenings of Silvia's case as I went and in no time had her strapped around my neck and I bounded up on stage.  
  
Lenny's eyes lit up. "It's "Dixie's Shout" he called out to me. I shrugged and smiled thinly, while Dixie arched an eyebrow, smiled at me and started to pound out another chorus on the keyboard. I slipped right in and took the next solo.  
  
Silvia and I cut loose. I just closed my eyes and let my sax wail, let the waves of music wash over me like a baptism, cleansing my soul, but even linked with Silvia, still my feelings were dark as memories of the rape intruded. There were even men in the saloon who looked like the ones that raped me that night.  
  
Legato, you bastard! I thought. I couldn't keep the blues out of my horn. In a minute, Hot Lips slid in behind me and matched me note for note. I started to get loose. The music went on wild and free, dizzying even discordant and we played it higher, wilder and hotter until suddenly I heard the strings of instruments breaking. Lenny's drum rhythm staggered and lurched, I heard screams and moans, as I kept playing hotter and hotter and the glass of Miss Adelaide's great glass window shattered into shards. I felt dizzy, opened my eyes, and the next note died on my lips.  
  
I was shocked at the devastation I saw before me. The only people still alive in what had been a crowded saloon seemed to be Hot Lips, me, Legato, and Knives who clapped his gloved hands and shouted "Bravo! Hornfreak. That was music to my ears.!" I looked around the bandstand in shock. Dixie's body slumped over her piano, blood leaking onto the black and white keys. Randy, Jason, Toby, and Sunny lay in a tangled pile of shattered limbs, blood splattered and sprayed on splintered instruments.  
  
"Oh, God, Lenny," I whispered when I saw him lying dead and broken as his drumheads. Inches away from him, I saw Dave's bloody corpse.  
  
Tears sprang to my eyes as Knives continued his lonely applause. I turned to look at Hot Lips. He seemed stunned.  
  
What was going on? In shock from what I was seeing, I lurched down the bandstand steps to get a drink to calm my nerves. When I got to the bar, I saw Miss Adelaide lying dead in her black spangled gown, with the bar girl from the picnic, limbs splayed, lifeless beside her, shattered bottles on the floor. The smell of cheap whiskey hit me. I poured a shot, tossed it back, gagged at the taste, but kept it down. When I raised my head, I saw the figure of a tall man with dark hair and a black suit lying dead by the batwing doors. I started to moan like a wounded animal.  
  
I tore like a madman across the corpse-littered room throwing toppled chairs out of my way. I dug through bodies and felt a painful surge of relief when I realized the one I'd seen was not Nick's. I tried to open my link to him, but I found Knives and Legato instead. I was blocked again. I saw another body that looked like Nick and began to panic. There were more bodies. Every time I saw a black suit on a dark-haired man, my heart quaked, but in a short time I realized that Nicholas was not among the dead in that room.  
  
I saw a tall dark figure slumped against the cushion of the booth in the saloon's back room and walked back slowly. I seized him by the shoulders and my panic eased as I recognized Caine. The eye of her masked face flew open. It was bloodshot from tears and liquor.  
  
I heard a voice behind me. Knives.  
  
"You needn't panic, Hornfreak. Your former partner is quite safe. I sent him out on an assignment this evening."  
  
"Were you expecting him," Legato asked me.  
  
"You know damned well I was, you crazy fuck." I growled in my throat. "How could you? Damn you to hell, Legato!"  
  
I was about to take a deep breath and blow into Silvia's reed when a grip like a vise took hold of my lungs and I could neither inhale nor exhale. I couldn't catch my breath. My vision turned dark and the back of my neck got hot and sweaty. I was on the verge of fainting and heard a voice.  
  
"Temper.temper, Hornfreak," said Knives. "This is just a little reminder that your loyalty is not to your band or your partner or even your father. It is to me.  
  
I saw Hot Lips' body lying at my feet.  
  
"You are the minstrel, but I am the Master and you will play whatever tune I set. Is that clear?"  
  
My heart struggled to say no, but my mouth said, "Yes."  
  
"I don't think you were paying attention to what I said earlier. You think you have free will, but you don't. You're a collection of protoplasm and biochemicals, part of a breeding experiment set in motion long ago on Planet Earth. It seems that freaks like you and Legato are the culmination, the pinnacle of the effort to improve the human race. If you are the high point of its evolution, its better that it ends with you.  
  
Such primitive organisms really.  
  
You have your bit of psychic power, a little healing ability, you really should be modest about your talents in that regard, and that empathic ability.it's really more of a liability now isn't it? What kind of gift is it to know what another one of the pitiful members of your race is feeling? As if it mattered.  
  
True, you have mastered the ability to evoke emotions with the tonal patterns you play on your horn, but to think, you waste your talent, playing for the delectation of humans. The syrup you pour out of your horn is music to their ears. Your love ballads are only feel-good drugs for the masses.  
  
Still you do have a talent and it's the only real talent you possess. It's what caught my attention from the first though you use it so rarely. But I saw you in fine form this evening.  
  
With the talent you showed tonight, you leave the realm of humanity behind and actually touch the plane of the divine with the destructive chaos you unleashed.  
  
My brother fights against it but he has the same talent for destruction. But with a little help from me, the power just flowed out of him just like it did from you."  
  
"What are you saying?" I asked sharply. I was beginning to enter a state bordering on shock.  
  
"Not very quick on the uptake.smarter than most, but still so gullible and naïve." Knives went on. "You thought that I killed your friends? I may have amplified the effects a bit, but it was your doing that killed them. You did it yourself and the only reason that anyone is still alive is that I blocked the sound waves from destroying those that I thought might be useful to me."  
  
"It's a lie! It never happened this way before." I shouted and I stumbled back to the stage. The quietness of death was all around me. I looked down at Dixie and Lenny. Oh, God, the waste of that talent. I was stricken and I could not stop my tears. Toby, Sunny--the way the music had flowed out of his fingers, the sweet music I'd never make again with them. And for what? A madman obsessed with revenge.  
  
I sank to my knees by Hot Lips and cradled his body in my arms. I felt lost and alone in my grief for my music, for my father, my friends.  
  
Knives said in a condescending tone, "A family drama, both boring and futile. I thought I made it clear earlier, but I forgot I'm dealing with a human and its seems you need to be reminded every few moments.You will serve me!"  
  
I was angry then and my tears dried. I tried to hold back the intense feelings of hatred that churned in me, but only because I wanted to see Nick again.  
  
"You were right about that too, Legato. He is obsessed with the priest. I thought I'd made it clear to you, Hornfreak, that you serve me. Anything good that comes into your life only comes because I allow it. I begin to doubt that you'll ever see the priest again."  
  
"I will see him again," I promised myself.  
  
"Like you see your father now?" Knives sneered. "You still don't understand. Legato tells me you're smart but then that's what comes of listening to the opinion of a human. You don't have free will, Hornfreak. It's time you learned that you only have what choices I allow you. Get up, dog."  
  
I got to my feet.  
  
He'd made it clear that he could kill Nick if he wanted to, but if he did, what was the point of going on?  
  
"Fuck you," I said with contempt. "I am not your dog. How's this for free will?"  
  
I acted quickly, put my lips on Silvia's reed took a breath and blew, the air already thick, all my negative emotions focussed inward. I'd kill myself first.but I could not force the breath through the reed. I stood still as a statue with the breath stopped in my lungs. He wouldn't even allow me that much control over my destiny.  
  
"I am the master and you are the minstrel. You will play the tune I set you. Is it clear?"  
  
He allowed me to empty the breath in my lungs. It came out as a long sigh.  
  
I hesitated a long moment before replying as the overwhelming sense of my powerlessness sank in.  
  
"It is clear, Master Knives," I said in a dull voice.  
  
Knives spoke to Legato, "Should I leave him just the slightest shred of hope the way I do you? Yes, it's crueler that way, I think."  
  
I sensed movement at my feet, saw Hot Lips moving groggily, soft groans coming from his throat as he struggled to sit up.  
  
I dropped to my knees and put my arm around him and let healing power flow through me. I felt the power that moved through me was stronger than it had been before. Hot Lips came to with a sharp intake of breath as if he'd been jolted awake by a whiff of smelling salts.  
  
"Midvalley," he mumbled.  
  
"I'm leaving, Hornfreak. Remember your new responsibilities," Knives called. "McCoy and Legato can explain everything you need to know. By the way, you are still Legato's assistant and I expect you to fulfill your role to perfection. Do you understand, Hornfreak?"  
  
"Yes, Master Knives," I said.  
  
"Are you coming, Legato?" asked the blond man in a petulant tone. "I want you tonight. The music put me into an odd mood. All that blood and death. It was positively intoxicating."  
  
"Of course, Master," he murmured softly and pushed through the batwing doors after Knives.  
  
I looked down at my father. He seemed fragile and diminished and looked every one of his fifty odd years of age. I helped him to his feet. He shuddered when he saw the devastation around him.  
  
"Dixie?" he asked me.  
  
"She's dead."  
  
"Lenny? Sunny? Dave?"  
  
"They're all dead," I replied.  
  
He shuddered again.  
  
"Let's get out of here."  
  
My father was staying at the Hotel Central so I walked him back to his room. I had a lot on my mind., some of my thoughts so raw, I couldn't even consider them.  
  
I wanted to arrange for the burial of my friends in the band. Toby was a bachelor but he had family in Mei City. Sunny's wife, Kima, was going to be devastated, and Knives had said that I killed him. I'd killed them all. How could it be? I'd always been able to control my gift before, but now, I had questions. Dixie, Lenny, oh, God, I was going to miss their music. Now what? Would I even be able to play again? Only if Knives allowed it. But, no one would ever want to play with me if the truth got around. My thinking grew panicked.  
  
"Relax, son," said Hot Lips as we got to the door of his room. He fumbled in his pocket for the key and I opened the door for him. He almost lost his footing but I caught him before he fell. "I'm still a little dizzy. Was that Knives doing?"  
  
"I don't know. Master Knives told me that you could explain things to me."  
  
"It's simple really. Master Knives makes it his business to know what we value and buys our loyalty with the threat of destroying what we hold dear, but he destroys something we love first, so we will not doubt the seriousness of his intentions. You've seen his power. Do you have any reason to doubt that he could follow through on any threat?  
  
"None, but you counseled me to be loyal to him. Why? He's a monster!"  
  
Hot Lips sighed. "I told you he destroys something we love. It was because of him that your mother died. I thought it was an accidental death and that I was free of him at last, but he knew you were my son even before you showed the power. He knows the human instinct to protect progeny. He knows our instincts better than anyone. When he took you into the Academy on Legato's advice, I realized that you were the new hostage for my loyalty and for that reason alone, I serve him gladly."  
  
"You're glad to serve the man who raped me?"  
  
"At least you're alive."  
  
"And without a shred of dignity left. Answer me this, do you know why he raped me? Was it for revenge or does he just enjoy inflicting pain?"  
  
"There may be some of that reasoning, but you must have noticed that there is something in the sexual bond that magnifies the healing effect. Knives needed healing, so he used you. He had exhausted Legato's reserves and he needed the strength to try to find his brother. I think he may have used you before--those times when you were ill. He had a bond with you through Legato."  
  
"So these are the actions of a superior being?" I asked.  
  
"He can do what he wants," said Hot Lips, "and you can't deny that he's your superior."  
  
I found that I couldn't.  
  
"The bottom line is that even if he weren't, he knows what you value and he knows that he can take it away. I've told you before. You have to know where your priorities lie."  
  
"Nick."  
  
To Be Continued 


	37. A Time to Mourn

A Time to Mourn  
  
It was almost midnight when Hot Lips walked with me to the undertaker's. The streets were empty except for the sheriff and a couple of deputies who were heading down towards the saloon to see what had happened. I'm sure people were curious about the sonic boom but not curious enough to risk their lives to see what had caused it.  
  
The undertaker was already up and dressed by the time I knocked on the door. I guess the shock wave had him anticipating new business.  
  
He followed me to the saloon with a wagon and an assistant to help him in recovering the bodies of my dead friends.  
  
I ended up paying for nine burials in all, for Miss Adelaide and the bar girl, Josie, for Dave and Lenny, Dixie and Randy, Sunny, Toby and Jason.  
  
I was oddly devoid of emotion during the transaction with the undertaker but afterward fell into a morbid frame of mind. It only got worse when I felt an almost crippling pain through my link with Legato. Knives was using him hard.  
  
"Serves you right, you fucking bastard," I muttered, but it hurt so bad I couldn't hold back tears. I don't think Hot Lips knew what I was going through, but he took a flask of whisky from his pocket and urged me to drink. I swallowed the whisky like a man dying of thirst. He had to stop me from draining the bottle.  
  
"Don't kill yourself with it, son," I remember him saying. The liquor did dull the pain for a while, and soon I felt nothing through the link. While I was walking down the street, I stumbled and found myself leaning against a wall while the heavens spun above me. I felt arms around my shoulder supporting me as I walked unsteadily.  
  
Later I remembered the feel of the cool wood of a scarred table top under my cheek, then a moment later it seemed, the feel of sand under my hands and knees as I threw up in an alley. Drunk as I was, I still recognized chunks of cheesecake and raspberry sauce. The memory of sucking on Legato's lips and tongue was all too vivid then and in the streets at two in the morning I bellowed at the top of my lungs, "God damn you to hell, Legato, you fucking bastard!! I hate you!!!"  
  
I might have gone on shouting, but Hot Lips hushed me and lent me a hand.  
  
"Get up, son. You'll feel better when you get a little sleep."  
  
"He lied to me, Hot Lips. He used me," I said as I struggled to my feet. "He fucking set me up---"  
  
"I know you hate him, son. Come on, that's it, just a few more steps and then in the door here."  
  
" I hate him," I mumbled under my breath.  
  
I remember sinking onto a bed and holding my head in my hands moaning, "Oh, God, Nick."  
  
"It's all right, Midvalley. Get some sleep you'll feel better in the morning."  
  
Hands gently lay me down on a soft mattress and covered me with a blanket.  
  
"I hate him," I mumbled while the room twirled round and round. .Just before I fell asleep, I heard a voice in my head that whispered, "You killed your friends and cheated on your lover. Don't you really hate yourself more?"  
  
"Shut up, you bastard," I moaned.  
  
In the darkened room, I wept. I hated myself.  
  
I woke up next morning on a bed in Hot Lips' hotel room wishing I was dead.  
  
Hot Lips was moving around the room quietly. He stood by my bed with a glass of water and handed me a couple of pain pills.  
  
"You've got to get up, Midvalley. Master Knives will expect reports by this evening and there's something else we need to do first."  
  
I didn't question him. I swallowed the medicine and got up to face the day.  
  
A little later, Hot Lips and I walked to the cemetery. We brought along our instruments.  
  
The gravediggers were just marking the graves of our band mates with crosses when we arrived. I wished that Nick could have been there to say words. He was an eloquent speaker, but it seemed somehow fitting that their final tribute be music.  
  
Hot Lips unpacked his trumpet and with some concern, I pulled Silvia from her case, slid the strap round my neck and was about to put my lips on the reed, when I got worried and I asked Hot Lips, "Do you think it's safe for me to play."  
  
"I think so," he said a little tentatively. "Just keep your eyes open, son."  
  
I looked at him, nodded and blew my first notes.  
  
I thought of my dead friends as I played, for shy Toby who added so much to the sound of our band but never boasted of his skill, for Jason who played his fiddle with such fire and for Sunny whose sensitive creativity moved me so many times . Tears rolled down my cheeks as I remembered Dixie and the way the music flowed out of her so effortlessly, and Randy who cherished her, and Dave who loved Lenny as Nick loved me. I offered my final song to Lenny who worshipped with me for so many years at the altar of music.  
  
I like to think we played their souls to rest. I couldn't help wishing there was an afterlife and that the beauty of the music that my friends made would not be silenced forever. I closed my eyes and continued to play while the tears flowed and it was all I could do, to keep my lips on the mouthpiece.  
  
"Open your eyes, son," my father prompted me.  
  
I opened them and noticed that the air had begun to thicken. I stopped playing and rubbed the cuff of my sleeve across my eyes.  
  
"Listen," said Hot Lips.  
  
I could have sworn I heard music, a tinkle of keys, the strum of a guitar, a pounding drum rhythm. My heart constricted thinking somehow that my prayer had been answered, and then I realized that a breeze had carried the sound of music being made in town to my ears. Hot Lips exchanged a glance with me, and we ended up laughing.  
  
"It's a beautiful thought though, isn't it, Midvalley," he said.  
  
"Yes, it is," I replied.  
  
We stood there for several minutes in silence. Then I moved to where Miss Adelaide and Rosie were buried. I thought again how harsh this planet was on women. I was well aware all the time we were there that this was the cemetery where my mother was buried.  
  
I found myself drawn to her grave. Hot Lips followed me. A wooden cross with her name carved on it marked the site.  
  
My mother, despite her profession had been a believer. Windstorms had worn down the letters but I could still read them.Silvia. I found myself full of sadness and regret. I brought the mouthpiece to my lips and began to play "Silvia's Tune". I had always wished that my mother could hear the song I wrote for her. Now seemed like a good time.  
  
Hot Lips joined it. We played no fancy trills or embellished the song in any way but just let the simple melodic line flow through our horns and it was enough. I sank to my knees afterward and tried to remember her as she had been. Hot Lips stood behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.  
  
I broke down and wept at the wreckage my life had become. Hot Lips sank down behind me and held me while I grieved. In a few minutes, the emotional storm passed, but my sense of hopelessness persisted.  
  
Hot Lips shifted and we both ended up sitting on the ground by the grave.  
  
"There's no hope, is there?" I asked my father.  
  
"There's always hope, Midvalley."  
  
"In a fool's paradise, maybe, but I'm a realist."  
  
"Your mother was a believer and so am I."  
  
"And when you're dead, that will make two less believers," I scoffed at my father's naivete.  
  
"I still believe in the prophecies," said Hot Lips, "and I believe that one day I will be reunited with your mother again in an Eden where there will be no stealing, no killing or hatred. My love for your mother is still so strong that not even death can defeat it. I'll see her again some day, Midvalley. I have no doubt about that."  
  
He uttered those words with fierce certainty, but then wept, his shoulders shaking with the sadness that overwhelmed him.  
  
"If your faith is so strong than why are you crying?" I asked when his tears slowed.  
  
"Because I still miss her so much, Midvalley."  
  
I was overcome by my own grief then and we fell into each others arms as we both wept again.  
  
As much as I missed her, I missed Nick just as much. I was afraid I would never see him again and I wept as much for that as for my mother. Finally our tears dried and we separated again and sat once more. Hot Lips reached into his jacket, pulled out cigarettes, lit them and handed me one. I took it and inhaled hungrily, thinking of Nick as I smoked.  
  
My father took a drag and when he exhaled he said, "The first time I left your mother because of my jealousy, I always held out hope that I'd see her again. It may sound stupid, but I prayed that she'd stop giving herself to other men and love only me. It took longer than I thought for my prayer to be answered. Almost 10 years, but when I returned, she told me she loved me and she would be faithful to me. I had prayed that she love only me, but I found that I had to share that love with you."  
  
"So were you jealous again?"  
  
"No, not at all. That's the funny thing, when I saw you and recognized that you were a part of me, I realized that I didn't really know how to pray, but it strengthened my faith to know that the deepest wishes of my heart were granted without my even asking."  
  
"You wanted me?"  
  
"More than you can imagine. I only wish I could have spent more time with you, but making music with you has meant a lot to me."  
  
I nodded, but couldn't speak.  
  
"I know you're afraid, Midvalley," said Hot Lips.  
  
I looked at him like he was out of his mind.  
  
"You're afraid you'll never see Nick again. You're afraid if you do, that Knives will kill him out of spite," he continued.  
  
"There's no way out," I said.  
  
He answered with an intensity that had me almost convinced for a moment, "If you ask, it will be given to you. Knock and the door will be opened. Faith is the key."  
  
I smiled for what seemed to be the first time in days, "You're nuts, Hot Lips," I said with a small shake of my head.  
  
"Hey, I did my best. I planted the seed anyway," he said with an answering smile. "I believe you'll see him again. I think you two were meant for each other."  
  
"You're such a romantic, dad," I said. I felt a strong bond of affection between us.  
  
"I'll see your mother again too, and when we're finally together, nothing will part us again."  
  
He said it with such certainty, I almost believed him.  
  
"You're really nuts, dad," I said with another smile, "but I love you anyway."  
  
"I love you too, son. I'll pray for you."  
  
"Thanks, I'd like that," I said. "I don't know that He'd answer my prayers. I've done too many things I'm ashamed of."  
  
"We all have," said Hot Lips with a look of regret, "but don't give up hope, son. There's at least one thing that Knives can't do and that's stop you from hoping, believing and loving."  
  
His words gave me a sense of peace and we sat in silence a few minutes longer. I closed my eyes and thought of Nick. The warmth of my memories of him eased the ache in my heart. My father's voice wakened me from the reverie.  
  
"Sorry to disturb you, but I've got to get to the depot soon, Midvalley. Master Knives will be expecting our reports."  
  
I was silent, but I got up and Hot Lips walked with me part of the way back to headquarters. We parted at the depot and I wept again as we hugged good-bye.  
  
"If I don't see you again, son, remember that I always loved you. You're a good man, Midvalley," he said.  
  
"I wish I could believe that, " I murmured to myself as I watched him walk away.  
  
When I got to Headquarters, I decided to review all the reports from Mouth of Gabriel agents received since the disappearance of Vash the Stampede. I read through more than a hundred reports where agents had followed up on tips, but each ended the same way.Negative contact, no further leads available. I noted on a map of the planet, the source of every report. After plotting over a hundred locations of no contact just outside of Augusta. I began to wonder when he'd left the place.  
  
I tried to put myself in his shoes. If I had put out the energy that Vash the Stampede had, well, I'd be dead of course, I thought. Whenever I dug too deeply into my energy reserves, I always felt sick afterwards, usually with a headache and a need to sleep.  
  
I wondered if the same was true of the Humanoid Typhoon. He'd spent so much of the day shooing people away. That would have been tiring. Then there was the match with Rai-dei the Blade. He spent much energy dodging Rai-dei's attacks. And not long after, he unleashed the shock wave that turned Augusta into a pile of rubble and cratered the fifth moon. It was truly frightening that he had the ability to shoot an energy bolt that powerful such an unimaginably long distance. But if he put out that much energy, he must have been exhausted., I reasoned. If he was one of the last to leave the city environs, bringing up the tail end of the long line of refugees, that could explain why there had been no sightings of Vash the Stampede.  
  
Another reason might be that it would have been easy enough for him to change his appearance. One of the earliest reports detailed that remnants of a red coat, presumably that of Vash the Stampede, had been found in the vicinity of Rai-dei the Blade's body. If weariness that caused the Stampede to slouch, it would hide his height. Simply running his hands through his hair would be enough to alter his extreme hairstyle. A cloak or a blanket to cover his body would finish his disguise.  
  
Who would be willing to take in a homeless man? Most men and women would be wary unless he were exhausted perhaps and seemed harmless. Probably only a kind-hearted woman would take him in, the way my mother had taken in Bill McFarlane. Funny, how'd I'd forgotten that about him.  
  
I worked on a report for Knives the rest of the day. Late in the afternoon, one of Leonof's puppets summoned me. I walked to the mansion and another puppet brought me into Knives' study almost immediately.  
  
"Report," ordered Knives. "I suppose you'll bore me with the same drivel that everyone else has," he sighed in a condescending tone.  
  
"I've been doing some analysis of the information sent back by informants," I said, " and I wanted to ask you if you knew what kind of person your brother might seek shelter with if he was exhausted. I was thinking that a woman would be more likely to give him shelter than a man."  
  
For some reason when he looked at me, he appeared to be exceptionally angry. I looked away and concentrated on emptying myself of all thought and merely breathed. In a moment his anger calmed, and he said in a more reflective tone, "That's a good thought, Hornfreak. My brother has shown some affinity for women in the past. You're probably wrong, but still a good thought. Go on with your report."  
  
"I plotted these points on the map," I said, and held the document out to him. Knives took it and looked at it.  
  
I believe he hasn't traveled far and may be living in one of the small farms or ranches on the outskirts of Augusta," I continued. "Though that area has supposedly been thoroughly checked, I believe that agents were looking for a man alone. A man living with a single woman might still draw comment, but possibly not if there were children present. You said he was fond of children. He might be exchanging chores for room and board. There are quite a few homeless doing that. I think that when he's found we'll find him in a situation like that."  
  
"Not bad, Hornfreak. I'll have Legato share all the reports he receives with you from now on. You two will make such a great team," said Knives in a voice dripping with disdain. "If you find my brother for me, maybe I'll let you and the priest partner up again."  
  
My heart quickened to hear that, and Knives just laughed at my reaction.  
  
"Then again probably not. I just said that to see how you'd react," Knives drawled lazily and then chuckled some more. "You should see the expression on your face. So disappointed."  
  
I got control of my emotions, made no comment and waited for him to dismiss me.  
  
"You may go now," he said.  
  
I left without another word.  
  
Legato was waiting outside the study when I exited. I registered it was him and felt a wave of disgust wash over me. I could feel his pain over my reaction to him.  
  
"Midvalley," he said.  
  
"Yes?" I said coldly.  
  
"I'd like to review some reports with you when Master Knives is finished with me," he began and then placed a thick stack of documents in my arms. I walked back to the office at headquarters, put aside my angry feelings and concentrated on my work. I started to leaf through the papers.  
  
Zazie's report concerning his contact with the hive mind, merely read, "No trace as yet." Leonof's report similarly indicated no leads. Most of the report was concerned with the cities that he had placed puppets in. So far, he had placed them in Mei City and a number of small outlying towns.  
  
I was just about to start with the Evergreen's report when I felt pain through the link with Legato.  
  
Knives was fucking him again and hurting him badly. It seemed to me from what I felt that Legato's body was nothing more to him that an object to inflict pain on.  
  
Knives beat him, slapped him, cut him, clawed him--I would say he raped him, had Legato not so willingly submitted and I found myself weeping again as Legato wept.  
  
Legato felt no pleasure through the ordeal until Knives had his orgasm and in that softened state, when his master stopped inflicting pain, Legato's relief and mine was intense.  
  
Once my nerve endings stopped screaming, I was reminded of my own behavior with Legato the day before and I was ashamed of myself.  
  
Still, it was Legato and I hated him, didn't I? But it was almost impossible to hate the man when I felt what he felt. And I knew he was in great pain.  
  
Had he really set me up to be raped at the White Cat? The thought of how he betrayed me enraged me and I began to wonder at how quickly Legato had shown up my doorstep the day my mother was killed. Had it all been planned as a way to exploit my talent and a continued guarantee of my father's loyalty?  
  
But when the heat of anger passed, I remembered that Legato had shaken his head, no. Why?  
  
"He set me up!" I shouted to the room angrily, but then, I calmed myself as I remembered his kindness to me.  
  
"He gave me the money to bury my mother," I whispered to myself.  
  
"He set me up!!!"  
  
"He saved my life---twice," I reminded myself.  
  
"He set me up!!"  
  
I treated him just as badly the day before. There was no excuse for what I'd done to him. I was no better than he was.  
  
Time passed. Legato had planned to meet me but never showed up. I was sure he must have returned to his quarters. I began to feel Legato's pain again, as infection from the wounds that Knives had inflicted began to grow. Why wasn't Legato caring for himself? Was he too weak from what he endured?  
  
"Why else, Midvalley?" I asked myself.  
  
I remembered how exhausted I'd been after Knives had raped me. Even when I'd pissed and shit myself, Legato had cleaned me up and warmed me with his body when the chills were at their worst. I remembered that and felt myself drawn to the door of Legato's room. I found myself standing outside debating whether to knock or walk away. What had brought me here anyway? Maybe it was my guilt over what I'd done to him. Maybe sympathy? But he set me up, I reminded myself yet again. I almost walked away at that point.  
  
I waited outside the door for a few more minutes. I knew that Legato was aware of me. I wanted to see if he would attempt to influence my decision. He did nothing. He was too weak and in too much pain.  
  
I found that I pitied the man, so I knocked and entered.  
  
Legato was lying quietly on his bed. I had never seen him looking so low. I helped him sit up and eased him out of his coat. When I took off his shirt, I saw that it was wet with blood. I found a healing salve on a shelf in his bathroom and treated his wounds with it. He sighed with relief as the pain eased, but still he said nothing. I brought him some pills for the pain and a glass of water. He took the medicine I offered him and lay down again. I pulled the sheets up and covered him.  
  
I had my hand on the doorknob and was just about to leave when I heard him say, "Midvalley."  
  
"What," I asked.  
  
He looked like he wanted to say something, but then the light left his eyes and he just said, "Nothing."  
  
I went back to my room and got ready for bed. I took Silvia out of her case and sat holding her for the longest time. I was still almost afraid to play her, afraid that if I closed my eyes, I would kill again. I sighed heavily.  
  
I thought of things my father had said to me about me and Nick---that he believed we were meant for each other and that we'd see each other again. All I had to do was ask and it would be given to me.  
  
"Sentimental fool."  
  
Knock and the door will open, he'd said.  
  
"More likely slam in your face," I said.  
  
I brought Silvia's reed to my mouth and began to play "Serenade", the song that I had written for Nick. Linked to Silvia, I said my next words in the privacy of that communion where no one, not even Knives could hear. It couldn't hurt to try it, after all.  
  
"God, let me be with Nick again."  
  
To Be Continued 


	38. The Eye of the Storm

The Eye of the Storm  
  
The next morning I felt like a fool for the secret prayer I had whispered in my heart. To say that I doubted it would bring results was to understate the matter. The only hope I held out was that Knives just might make good on the quasi-promise he dangled that he'd "partner me with the priest" if I managed to find his brother. I doubted that I would ever win Master Millions' favor, but the possibility that I might be partnered with Nick again stimulated me to achieve.  
  
To that end, I buried myself in work. I thought that my best bet for finding the Humanoid Typhoon was to analyze the data from all reports and then direct the efforts of the Mouth of Gabriel agents with the information I gleaned.  
  
I made sure each of the agents was equipped with photos and drawings of Vash the Stampede and his identifying characteristics. I was rather shocked at some of the pictures supplied by Knives of his brother. These appeared to be taken from medical files. Even though I had no fondness for the man who'd destroyed two of the seven great cities, still I was sickened to see the extensive scar tissue that covered Vash's body.  
  
I stayed out of Master Knives way as much as possible and was generally up before first sunrise and in my office at headquarters wading through reports while I sipped my first cup of morning coffee.  
  
Though I longed for concise briefings like Nick's, most of the reports were lengthy and uninformative. I was never so bored in my life, but bored or not I had to read them all carefully on the off chance that some overlooked data might hold a clue to the Stampede's whereabouts. After analyzing reports all day, I found that I also analyzed them in my sleep.  
  
Sometimes, after reviewing a succession of absolutely worthless files, my mind rebelled and I found myself daydreaming about Nick. I missed him to the point of pain and the prospect that I might never see him again was as devastating as the loss of my bandmates.  
  
I never realized until I'd lost it, just how much making music with others enriched my life. On the few occasions that I'd gone into town to one of the taverns to hear some music and asked to sit in , my request was turned down point-blank. The reports of the slaughter at the White Cat Saloon coupled with the previous rumors that held me responsible for Skip Walker's death added up to one thing. No one wanted to jam with the Hornfreak.  
  
I followed my father's advice and when I was in my apartment, I played with my eyes open. When I felt the need to cut loose completely, I drove out to the weapon's range and blew shit up with Silvia. I also used the privacy of my link with Silvia to think of things that I dared not contemplate otherwise.  
  
Knives still had abusive, violent sex with Legato and as my link to Legato was still very strong, my only recourse to damp down the pain I felt was to get drunk enough to pass out.  
  
This was my life for several months. Work, Silvia, and hundred proof whisky.  
  
But there was so much work to do that I didn't have all that much time to play Silvia and after more than a few bouts of drunkenness, I had no stomach for the hangovers that interfered with my ability to concentrate the following day.  
  
I've heard it said that nature abhors a vacuum. Well, there was an empty space in my life where Nick and my music had been and against my will, Legato was starting to fill it.  
  
During my waking hours, I was almost constantly in Legato's company. His scent was in my nose, his velvet voice in my ears, his hands on my arm or my back as he leaned in over my shoulder to skim a report.  
  
"Keep your hands off, me," I told him coldly the first few times it happened.  
  
"As you wish," he said calmly as if he'd done nothing to upset me.  
  
But as months went by and being in each other's company became routine, the touching began again. At first I'd been able to ignore it, but having gone for months without an outlet for my sexual tension, I was beginning to feel as horny as hell and much as I hated to admit it, I was starting to get turned on. It was after just such a day that I found myself out at the weapons range with my lips on Silvia's reed playing out my frustration and one of the biggest causes of it---Legato Bluesummers.  
  
I took my lips off the mouthpiece and sighed when I thought about Legato. Even after I learned that he was responsible for my rape, still I cleaned him up and gave him healing every time Knives violated him. I knew my touches turned him even though I didn't intend it. I knew he wanted sex with me. He could let himself feel pleasure when he was with me and he couldn't with Knives.  
  
It was a measure of how sexually frustrated I was that I was entertaining thoughts like these at all. "God, Midvalley, you're hopeless," I said to myself. "Do you really want to have sex with a man who hired men to rape you?"  
  
A voice in my head told me, "Well, it's better than nothing."  
  
Another voice said "You'll hate yourself for it when you see Nick again."  
  
"But what if you don't?"  
  
"You have to stay positive. You'll see him again."  
  
"I'm going crazy!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs into the silence of the empty desert.  
  
A few minutes later, I sighed with resignation. The voices in my head had stopped arguing but nothing had changed. I still missed Nick and I was still horny.  
  
If I was going to stay faithful to Nick, it was going to take a miracle. I had to find Vash the Stampede, and soon.  
  
I thought what a curse my empathy was. I hadn't been able to link with Nicholas for months, because I was always in Legato's vicinity, picking up on his strongly broadcasted aura. The link with Nick had brought me pleasure, but the link to Legato was something else again.  
  
Knives' need for healing was long since past, but he continued to exploit Legato and seemed to go out of his way to inflict maximum pain on his willing victim. It was clear that Master Knives had a bone to pick with the human race and through Legato he got vicarious revenge.  
  
And every unhappy, unworthy, miserable feeling that Legato had, I was forced to share because of my empathy. Thoughts of him circulated through my brain like a slow-acting poison. Much as I wanted to hate him, I found I couldn't. I felt too much compassion for his suffering.  
  
I suppose that was one reason that I offered him healing to ease the pain I felt empathically-- the other was to keep him functional enough that Knives wasn't tempted to use me again.  
  
Such were my thoughts as I played Silvia at the deserted weapons range. When I came to the end of the moody piece I improvised, I walked for a while through a complex of buildings and onto the firing range. I found I had ended up by the small storage shack where I had given Legato his first sexual experience so many years ago.  
  
I unlatched the door and pushed into the room. It was almost exactly as I remembered it, the sandbags, the silhouette targets and the dancing golden dust motes. I set Silvia aside gently and groaned as I sat down and opened my fly. I wanted release from the feelings that wore me down.  
  
I had a bottle of suncream with me and slicked my shaft with the fluid. I remembered how good Nick made me feel as I stroked myself and imagined his kisses turning me on. I closed my eyes and sighed as I brought to mind his lips on mine, arms around me, his hard thrusting. "Oh, God, Nick," I groaned, "that feels so good. I gasped as the spasm came and I arched, while the semen spurted and my heart raced.  
  
Just a moment later I felt Legato's languid moan of pleasure in my mind and I sighed in irritation. Milking the link for all it was worth, I thought acidly, just like the voyeur he was. Was I never to have any privacy? I was angry and frustrated again.  
  
Though I'd wanted to think only of Nick, Legato interfered and ruined the moment. I fastened my pants, picked up Silvia, went outside and played again, determined to banish the intruder from my mind, but when the flow of music stopped, thoughts of Legato returned.  
  
His involvement in my rape at the White Cat was a puzzle I felt compelled to solve.  
  
Knives took pleasure in accusing Legato that evening. What had he hoped to gain from exposing Legato's actions? That was a piece of the puzzle.  
  
Legato got me into the academy on the strength of the psychic talent I showed when I killed Big Bill McFarlane. Chapel the Evergreen was impressed with the story Legato told him. He was less impressed that I cried myself to sleep every night for a month and showed no sign of the talent afterwards. I used my horn only to ease my painful memories. Without that outlet, I think I might have killed myself.  
  
And I was lonely. I was grateful to Legato, but his psychic abilities frightened me, so I kept my distance from the boy the other students called the blue-haired freak.  
  
I eventually settled into the routine at the school. I studied strategy and tactics and practiced with shotguns, pistols, rifles, machine guns. I was never the best, but I was more than adequate. After three years of training, I stood second only to Legato in the areas of intelligence analysis and strategy and tactics. Out on the weapons range Chapel Junior left us all in the dust.  
  
But despite my best efforts to do well at the school, I'd have to say, that Chapel the Evergreen was not pleased with my progress. He acted like I was a disappointment to him. It occurred to me now, that my situation at the time was a little like Zazie the Beast's when he wasn't allowed to graduate.  
  
Connecting the two situations--Zazie's and mine gave me an uneasy feeling. Knives had been disappointed in Zazie's progress, concerned he lacked the killer instinct. Had Knives been disappointed in my progress?  
  
All I had to do was follow the trail of evidence and my gut said, yes. Another piece of the puzzle fit into place.  
  
I brought the reed to my lips took a deep breath and played a wild string of notes that blew up an observation tower on the range.  
  
I was as certain of it as I was of Nick's love for me and blew a cacophonous solo of shrieks from Silvia.  
  
Oh, Legato hired the men who raped me I thought as Silvia wailed, but I had absolutely no doubt now that he had done it on orders from Master Knives.  
  
Silvia screamed and I blew up a bunker. Legato was just the middle man for the dirty work. Just like I signed the order that ended Dominique's life, and that's why Legato shook his head, no.  
  
Knives had wanted to know that I still had the killer instinct, figured the rape would anger me and his plan succeeded brilliantly.  
  
I kicked up a windstorm with the glissando I played next.  
  
When I had found the men who raped me, I blew them away with all the pain and violence that Silvia and I could command.  
  
Now storm clouds formed as I played and a thunderhead mushroomed and lightning flashed from it.  
  
So Knives was responsible!  
  
Silvia shrieked more frenzied high notes and thunder crashed and rolled.  
  
Knives might have found another way to get me to show the killer instinct, but he had another motive and I knew what it was.  
  
I grew angrier and Silvia's sonic blast caused a bolt of lightning to sizzle from the sky.  
  
Knives would never admit that he was angered by Legato's attraction to me. He was jealous!  
  
Another thunderclap sounded.  
  
Nick and I were caught in the middle of a jealous lover's game, God help us, and our chances of surviving it were next to nothing.  
  
I took my lips off the reed, gave into dark despair and rain began to fall. I would have wept at the hopelessness of it all, but still my first thought was for Silvia and I sought shelter back in the storage shack where I'd made love to Legato.  
  
I pillowed my head on the sandbag while I waited for the rain to stop and memories of the past flooded my mind.  
  
It's dark in the hallway that leads to my student's room, but I see him watching me through the half-open door of his room. It's open just a crack but I know he's there. Legato.  
  
I play Silvia, long meandering fugues that exasperate the other students some times, but never him. On long lonely nights in my room I touch myself and feel him enter my mind as I come gasping. What does he want?  
  
He seems reserved in public, but watches me with hungry eyes..  
  
The rape changes everything between us..  
  
I remember the imprint of his lips on my bruises, healing my pain. He asks for nothing in return, but I give it. I feel my heart bending towards his and for the first time since my mother died, embers I had thought dead stir to life and a small flame of love ignites.  
  
He gives me books to read, I give him kisses in return. He is as hungry to learn what I can teach and my tongue learns his body by heart. My mind opens to his and his to mine. My passion for him grows.  
  
Though he has known so much pain, I ease his suffering as he eases mine. For two, three weeks, we grow more intimate. I tell him I'm in love. He says he loves me back.  
  
A few days later, I hear he's been summoned by Master Knives. I see Legato in the hallway full of high spirits, with his duffel in his hand. I wave a greeting, but his mind is so full of Master Knives, he doesn't even see me.  
  
The rain outside began to taper off and I stood up.  
  
When I thought about the ending of the brief affair, even after all these years, the memory still stung.  
  
At the time, after a month of depression, I finally just decided that he'd lied.  
  
Now eighteen years later, I wondered if that was true. Had he loved me, this man who had hired other men to rape me?  
  
I would never willingly relive the memories of that night, but in the aftermath of the event when Legato cared for me, I shivered when I realized that he was responsible for the very pain he sought to kiss away.  
  
Did he love me or just pretend to make Knives jealous?  
  
"He's sick," I whispered to myself, "so he comes to me for healing. There's something broken inside him."  
  
But a small voice in my mind whispered, "Legato can never be healed. Not while Knives is his master."  
  
The rain outside stopped falling and the sun was coming out again. I opened the door and saw that much of the water from the storm had drained into ditches around the compound, but the floodwater that remained had turned the desert into a sparkling blue lake. The beauty reminded me of the moment I'd shared with Nick in the wooded copse at the orphanage, the last time I'd seen him.  
  
Nick was what I wanted and needed and if I was going to be with him again, serving Knives was the key. When the floodwaters receded an hour later, I returned to headquarters and went back to sifting reports and cutting orders for my agents.  
  
A week later, a trombone player from the Mouth of Gabriel, who'd been having a late breakfast in a café-tavern in Tonim Town saw a gangly sloppy looking man in the company of a youth and a grandmotherly woman..  
  
The blond man with long hair draped down his back, was dressed in a well- worn shirt and wrinkled pair of homespun trousers held up by suspenders. He wore a pair of glasses over bluish/ green eyes. The agent had to look at the man several times and check his face against the images he'd been given to help in making an identification. Finally, the man he'd been observing rolled up his sleeves while he was loading a wagon for the old woman outside the General Store. The man had scars on his right forearm that matched the scars on the ID pictures exactly. There was no doubt the man was Vash the Stampede.  
  
I sat at my desk in headquarters rather sleepily reviewing reports when that one jolted me out of my fatigue. The file was about the seventieth I'd skimmed. I jumped to my feet to notify Legato immediately.  
  
He met me just as I walked out the door.  
  
"I sensed your excitement, Midvalley, so I came as fast as I could," he said with a languid smile. Trust Legato for a double meaning. I knew he was also referring to the storage shed on the range.  
  
I was angry with him, but handed him the file. He skimmed it and smiled faintly.  
  
"So, it appears that one of your agents has found Vash the Stampede. Our master will be pleased. Let us give him the good news together."  
  
I was excited that that it was one of my agents who had found Knives's brother in the very area that I had suggested would prove fruitful. I couldn't help it when a satisfied smile slipped over my face. Maybe Knives would keep his word and partner me with Nick. I fantasized for a minute about where Nick and I would go first on our vacation. I imagined us riding on his motorcycle and my next thought was of us together on that big bed in my house in Mei City. That put an even bigger smile on my face. The only thing that calmed my fevered imagination was the side-long look Legato gave me and the comment he made.  
  
"If you imagine that kind of thinking will be rewarded, you are quite wrong, I assure you."  
  
I fell into a somber mood as we walked together, the report in my hands.  
  
Knives showed no emotion as he reviewed the file I handed him. I was successful in damping down my feelings while I was in his company. I just nursed the slightest bit of hope that he might make some gesture of thanks, but he dismissed me without a word.  
  
I went back to headquarters in an agony of anticipation waiting word on Master Knives' future plans.  
  
Legato walked into my office over an hour later.  
  
"What was the upshot of the meeting," I asked him.  
  
"No major changes for the moment other than that there will be some agent recalls and reassignments."  
  
My heart lifted to hear that.  
  
"Vash the Stampede will remain under observation. Leonof, Chapel the Evergreen, Hoppered the Gauntlet and Zazie the Beast will be going in to the area to observe his behavior and develop some scenarios to see what the best approach to take would be. I'll be nearby to supervise of course.  
  
As for you, Midvalley, Master wanted me to let you know particularly that you have done such a good job, that he has decided to reward you."  
  
I held my breath hoping for my heart's desire.  
  
"Master Knives told me to tell you that he knows how hard you worked to find his brother and that he appreciates your efforts.," Legato said and then hesitated.  
  
Come on, spit it out, Legato, I thought to myself.  
  
".and because of the excellent job you've done as my right-hand man, he's decided to make the arrangement permanent."  
  
"Permanent?" I echoed his words dully. I felt my disappointment keenly.  
  
"I thought you'd be pleased. You don't sound pleased. Still, you can take heart," said Legato in a comforting tone.  
  
I looked at him, but he did not meet my eyes.  
  
He crossed his arms across his chest and his right hand came to rest on crown of the small skull lashed to his left sleeve. He stroked the smooth bone gently as if it were the head of a loved one.  
  
The way his hand caressed the skull seemed sick and strange to me.  
  
He sensed my eyes on him.  
  
"Are you afraid, Midvalley?" he said just like my mother used to ask me when I'd had a nightmare.  
  
"You shouldn't worry," he continued. "It doesn't really matter. Our fate was sealed the moment we were born."  
  
He closed his eyes and continued to stroke the skull. Then he smiled and I felt every hair on my body raise.  
  
"Soon it will all be over," he said in a soothing voice, "and there will be an end to pain for me and for you, but not for him. There will be eternal pain and suffering for Vash the Stampede."  
  
I left him and walked back to my quarters with feelings of dread and disappointment weighing heavily on me.  
  
To be Continued 


	39. Blue Funk

Blue Funk  
  
With Vash the Stampede found and my assignment as Legato's aide permanent, the purpose that had driven my life these past several months was gone.  
  
Fool that I was, I had set myself up to come crashing down, praying that just because I loved Nick so much I'd see him again. I numbed myself with alcohol that night, but the next morning, I fell into the comfort of habit and found myself at the dining facility seeking my morning coffee.  
  
I walked to headquarters with it, determined to find some work to occupy my mind, and it only seemed natural when I began to order the files that I had pored over for so many months.  
  
Some half hour later, Legato showed up.  
  
"Midvalley," he greeted me in a neutral tone.  
  
"Yes," I responded.  
  
"You don't look well."  
  
I said nothing in response.  
  
Silence grew between us. Finally to end it, I said," "What do you want, Legato?"  
  
"I don't want anything," he replied. "Master Knives has given me more instructions and I thought I would share them with you since you will be accompanying me."  
  
I exhaled harshly when he said that. I felt a sudden surge of anger and rebellion. I was sick of being joined at the hip with a man who constantly invaded my privacy and caused me so much mental anguish through my empathic link with him.  
  
"You're not the only one with the curse of empathy," he said, and after a moment's pause, he continued speaking.  
  
"Master Knives wishes us to observe the activities of Vash the Stampede for a time to see how his capture might best be handled."  
  
"And what does this have to do with me?"  
  
"At the moment very little. You did extraordinary work finding him..." he seemed to consider this, "but it will take some time for the observation teams to move into place. The goal we have worked for is within our grasp. The end is near," he said with downcast eyes.  
  
"Get to the point, Legato," I prompted him though his somber mood chilled me.  
  
"Your situation has been difficult over these past several months," he continued.  
  
That was the truth.  
  
"It has taken a toll on your health."  
  
Also true, I thought.  
  
"What of it?" I asked.  
  
"I need you at full strength for what is coming," Legato said hesitantly.  
  
"I don't want your healing," I said coldly.  
  
He sighed lightly and said, "I know you have loose ends to tie up in Mei City, not that it really matters. Still we humans are creatures of habit. Even I have begun to put my affairs in order though I must say, it all seems a little pointless."  
  
"I believe you own property in Mei City," he said after another pause. "We may not be back from our labors anytime soon, and it would be well for you to make provisions for its care or final disposition in your absence."  
  
"Final disposition?"  
  
Legato ignored the question and resumed, "I suggest that you take the steamer to Mei City, deal with your business and I will meet you there the day after tomorrow. I would leave today but Master Knives has some other last minute concerns that he wishes to address."  
  
I stood up and moved past him to leave.  
  
"Midvalley," he called as I pushed open the door.  
  
I turned and looked at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I trust you will make good use of the time you have left."  
  
I took a taxi to the station, and bought a ticket. The steamer was right on time. I spent most of the trip sitting in the café on the observation deck, thinking of the details I would have to handle when I got to Mei City. I wanted to visit a lawyer, pick up some equipment for Silvia, and also find out what I could about Nick's whereabouts if at all possible.  
  
The steamer arrived mid-afternoon.  
  
My first stop was Monk's Music. The bell on the door jingled when I entered the shop. The clerk recognized me. I wasn't there to browse.  
  
"I'd like a couple of boxes of sax reeds, please," I said.  
  
He reached under the counter and brought them up.  
  
"Anything else?" he inquired warily.  
  
"I need some new felt pads for my sax keys, a tube of glue, and a ream of blank sheet music, and that should do it."  
  
He rang up my purchase and bagged it while I was pulling the double dollars out of my pocket. Then Monk came in from the store room, saw me and said, "Shit!"  
  
"I'm getting a little tired of that reaction," I said.  
  
"Can you blame me? The rumors about you are pretty frightening, Hornfreak. What did you expect?"  
  
"The rumors about Skip Walker were lies."  
  
"And the ones about how your band died?"  
  
I sighed heavily.  
  
"You travel in dangerous company," Monk said.  
  
"A man can't always help the company he keeps."  
  
"Hot Lips McCoy told me Master Knives Millions was there with Legato Bluesummers."  
  
"He told you true, then."  
  
"McCoy told me you'd might drop in here."  
  
"You've seen him recently?"  
  
"He's in town, playing at the Bedbug, and he's got a room at the Maytime Hotel."  
  
"Thanks, Monk," I said as I turned and left the shop.  
  
I went straight to the hotel and asked after my father's room number at the front desk. The clerk told me he was eating dinner in the hotel café.  
  
I found my father a few minutes later.  
  
"Good to see you, son," he said as we hugged  
  
We sat down at his table and when the waiter came for my order, I asked for a bowl of chili and a cup of coffee.  
  
"So Vash the Stampede's been found," said Hot Lips.  
  
"News travels fast."  
  
"I heard you had a lot to do with it."  
  
I shrugged.  
  
"Are you on special assignments?" he asked.  
  
"Not at the moment. Legato gave me a couple of days to tie up my loose ends here and put my affairs in order."  
  
"What are your plans?"  
  
"Visit my lawyer and find someone to look after the house and studio."  
  
"I think Kima would look after it for you. She needs a place to stay now that Sunny's dead and can't provide for her."  
  
"Would you ask her? I didn't think she'd take anything from me. It's because of me that Sunny's dead."  
  
"I explained to her what happened at the White Cat Saloon as best I could. I told her that it was an accident. She accepts that. She's grief- stricken but she has no where else to turn. Can I tell her you'd like her to watch the place?"  
  
"It's the least I could do for her right now. I'll make arrangements with my lawyer to have paid a monthly stipend paid to her."  
  
"Are you visiting the lawyer because you're in some kind of trouble with the law, son?" he asked me.  
  
I shook my head, " No, I'm going to have a will drawn up," I said.  
  
"I'm surprised, Midvalley. In our line of work? I'd have thought you'd have one by now."  
  
"I never had anyone to be my beneficiary before, but if I do get killed, I know I'd like Nick and those orphans of his to have the money."  
  
"Have you seen him lately?"  
  
I gave a sigh of frustration. "I've had no news of Nick for months. I've been on a tight leash. All I know is that that Knives sent him out on a special assignment. He could be almost anywhere now," I said.  
  
After the waiter brought my order and I took a few bites of the chili, my father said, "Most recently, your priest was seen in the vicinity of Warrens City, just a little east of September. He was visiting a gunsmith, name of Frank Marlon. I could wire my contacts for information this afternoon and might just have his location by sometime tonight, but if they come up with no leads, maybe I could get a letter to your friend."  
  
"That could be risky," I said, but then I became preoccupied as I ate, mentally composing the letter I might send. A few minutes later I looked up and saw my father watching me with a look of concern.  
  
"Are you all right, son?"  
  
"I'm sorry I'm not much company."  
  
"I can see you have a lot on your mind and time is short for you. Meet me at the Bedbug later tonight. I'm playing with that bass player, Paul and the drummer, Chris. You ought to remember them from the last time we were there. They won't be afraid to play with you if that's what you're worried about. They're both from Mouth of Gabriel. We'll jam just like old times."  
  
"Sounds good, dad," I said with the ghost of a smile.  
  
"I hate to see you sounding so low, son. I'll go send those wires now," He reached into his pocket to leave some double dollars to pay for his meal but I waved him off.  
  
"Let me pick up the tab," I said.  
  
He nodded and left.  
  
After I finished my lunch, I went to my lawyer's office and arranged to have payments made to Kima. Then I had the will drawn up. I named Nick as the beneficiary of the Mei City property and the money from my bank accounts in the event of my death and then I went home.  
  
The house was as I left it the day I had hurriedly gotten ready to take Nick on the sandsteamer to December. I went into the bedroom to find a suit to wear for the gig I would play this evening.  
  
The first thing I saw when I opened the closet door was Nick's white shirt, the one I'd popped the buttons off in my haste to get him undressed on the sandsteamer. That reminded me of how we'd traded clothes the same day. I smiled as I recalled how handsome Nick had looked in my burgundy crushed velvet suit. I had packed it in the luggage duffel I'd brought with me and decided to wear it.  
  
I showered and dressed. It didn't take long, and then I faced the difficult task of writing a letter to Nick.  
  
I sat down at the table in the bedroom with a sheet of paper and a pen.  
  
"Dear Nick," I wrote. That was the easy part.  
  
Now my eyes wandered around the room and everywhere I glanced, I found traces of Nick. The rag he'd used to clean and oil his automatics. Matches for his cigarettes. A few meal block bars on the night stand.  
  
These few items he had handled, my memories and the few short letters he had written me were all I had left of him. I knew each letter by heart though. I yearned to see him again, but doubted that I ever would. Though it seemed hopeless, I still wanted him to know how I felt, so I took up my pen again.  
  
"Things have been difficult," I wrote. I thought of the deaths of my band, what Knives had done to me, the pain of my separation from Nick, and thought 'difficult' was a more than fair description.  
  
" I think about you every day," was my next sentence. It was true and I felt it was important to let him know that, "and I miss you," was the phrase that followed.  
  
I looked around the room as that truth sank in, and felt a weight of melancholy press down on me.  
  
"I don't know if I'll ever see you again," I wrote with a heavy heart, "but I wanted you to know that I will always love you."  
  
I couldn't help the few tears I shed when I finished that last sentence. I couldn't think of anything else to write, so I signed the letter, folded it, put it in an envelope and sealed it.  
  
Despite my depression, I began to get anxious, anticipating responses to Hot Lips's wired queries, so I headed back into town with the letter tucked in my jacket pocket and Silvia's case in my hand . Twenty minutes later I walked through the swinging doors of the Bedbug tavern.  
  
I took a seat at a table by the small bandstand and ordered a shot of bourbon from the bartender.  
  
"Mind if I play," I asked him.  
  
"Go right ahead," he said as he wiped up the counter top with a damp rag. "Hot Lips McCoy said you might drop by."  
  
I tossed back the drink, unpacked Silvia, went up onto the stage and began to play.  
  
In my melancholy frame of mind, I poured out my blues while Silvia sobbed notes that spiraled down in a minor key. I lost track of time as I let the music fill and flow through me in a soft woven chain of notes. Sometime later the drummer joined in and stroked his cymbals with the lightest of brush strokes. Then the rhythm of the bass throbbed low and mournful and the song went on and Hot Lips joined us, his trumpet weeping. The music wove around in a smoky blue labyrinth until finally we stopped. The drummer ended the piece with a final light touch of the brush on his shimmering cymbals.  
  
I was surprised by applause. I had hardly noticed that a crowd had gradually filled the small tavern.  
  
The four of us musicians took a break at that point and I went to the bar to get a drink.  
  
"Nice set, Hornfreak," said the bartender and he poured me a shot on the house. Hot Lips stepped up beside me and ordered a beer. I asked for another shot.  
  
"Any news of Nick?" I turned and asked him.  
  
"Nothing yet," he replied.  
  
I reached into my pocket for the letter I had written and handed it to him.  
  
"I'll get it to him, somehow," he said and slipped it into his jacket.  
  
Having done that, I felt a bit more at ease and went to sit at my table for the rest of the break. I swallowed another shot of bourbon hoping to take the edge off my tension and just about choked on it when Legato Bluesummers glided through the batwing doors and came over to my table.  
  
"May I join you?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer before sitting down.  
  
"We are just about to start our second set," I said.  
  
"I'm looking forward to it," he said. I heard him order a bottle of bourbon just as I headed up to the tiny stage.  
  
I gave myself to the music during the second set. Chris and Paul played in a style that fit my blue mood.  
  
Legato seemed to be listening intently. Every now and then, he knocked back a shot of bourbon I noticed.  
  
I have never seen Legato drunk, but by the beginning of the fourth set, I started to think that maybe he was.  
  
When the music was finished for the night and the applause died down, I packed Silvia in her case and got ready to leave. I stopped by Legato's table. I was surprised when he stood up and announced to the patrons in the room, "You will all leave now."  
  
The patrons, drunk and sober, gathered coats and belongings and filed out of the tavern. I started after them, but Legato said, "Please stay, Midvalley, " so I took a seat and waited to hear what he wanted.  
  
Hot Lips stopped at the table briefly to acknowledge Legato and to say, "Midvalley, I will try to get that information to you soon."  
  
"Don't bother," Legato told him. "Master Knives is aware of your activities and he is not pleased. Have I made myself clear?"  
  
"Perfectly," said my father. He shot me a look of regret but tapped his breast pocket as he turned to leave to signal me that he would deliver the letter. The bartender followed him out through the batwing doors and Legato and I were alone.  
  
Legato picked up the bottle of bourbon and poured shots in two glasses at our table.  
  
"Will you drink to our Master, Midvalley?"  
  
I made no move to pick up the glass.  
  
"Perhaps a beer would be more to your liking."  
  
I made no response. After a minute of silence, Legato sighed and began to speak.  
  
"I sense that you have been frustrated with me lately, but since we are going to be working closely together and I want your support, I thought I might try to explain a few things to you."  
  
"When Vash the Stampede destroyed the city of July, I lost my home," began Legato. "The plant that powered the city was destroyed. As you can imagine, rioting, looting and murder broke out. I was driven into the desert with my parents and my younger sister.she was little more than a baby, I was no more than five.  
  
We set out for Jeneora Rock on foot. My father pushed a cart loaded with what provisions that he thought might get us there alive, mostly with what little food and water we had on hand.  
  
The sun was pitiless and by the end of the day we were exhausted. When it started to get cold, my father sent me to forage for firewood. I got lost, but when I came back I saw that men had come. They were eating...and drinking. Their mouths were wet with blood. They had done things, Midvalley---unspeakable things...to my family."  
  
He bowed his head, clasped his arms around his chest and his hand came to rest on the small skull lashed to his sleeve and he caressed it.  
  
I felt a deep wave of sadness flow over me.  
  
"The men saw me. At first they did nothing but laugh. Then one of them said, 'It's time for dessert,' and two of them came at me. I knew they were going to kill me...I knew they were going to." he couldn't continue for a moment.  
  
His velvet voice broke, " so I killed them with my mind. " He looked at me with his face half-veiled.  
  
I felt my sadness deepen. We were the same in so many ways.  
  
"Master Knives, injured though he was, sensed my psychic scream from hundreds of miles away and sent Leonof and Chapel the Evergreen to find me, just as some years later, I would find you."  
  
"Master Knives's psychic ability was still intact after his brother's assault," continued Legato, "but his body had taken great damage. His spinal column was severed. He was already in the healing stasis bath when I was brought before him for the very first time.  
  
Though I was so very young, still I understood the evil that humans are capable of. My master explained what had happened to the city of July and what had caused it. It is true that humans killed my family but we would never have had to leave the city if Vash the Stampede had not destroyed it and our home with it. He was just as responsible for the deaths of my family as the men who ate their flesh and drank their blood."  
  
I looked at Legato who leaned back in his chair with his eyes downcast and I knew how much he suffered as he recalled these moments from his past.  
  
"I am truly sorry, Legato," I said.  
  
"Master Knives promised me then that the deaths of my family would not go unpunished."  
  
"What was the promise of a cripple worth?"  
  
"You should not mock my master. He may have been physically crippled, but still had abilities that put mine to shame. He is the only one capable of matching his brother's powers," Legato went on. "I realized that if I wanted revenge, I would need my master's help."  
  
"But Knives wants his brother taken alive," I pointed out.  
  
"Of course," Legato nodded. "That is the beauty of my master's strategy. Death would end the suffering of the being who has been the source of the greatest pain in my life, the loss of my family. I want Vash the Stampede to experience a lifetime of pain as I have."  
  
Legato paused for a time, to sip another shot, then he continued, "Master Knives' scientists found that I had many psychic talents with strong powers of telepathy, telekinesis, and teleportation, but for Master Knives' sake, the one that excited them most was my healing ability. The scientists believed that talent could be magified."  
  
I remembered how Knives had heightened my healing ability, by inflicting maximum pain to elicit the healing response and then draining me of it. Now I know what had been done to Legato all those years.  
  
"I've seen your scars, Legato."  
  
"You think he hates me because I'm human, but you're wrong," he said. "It's my human weaknesses he hates. That weakness for comfort, and for pleasure," he murmured and his eyes and voice dropped. "I fell from his favor for your sake," he said with a glance at me that was filled with regret.  
  
"I didn't want your healing," I said.  
  
"You thanked me twice, as I recall," he countered.  
  
He was right. I had.  
  
"Just not the way you did it," I amended.  
  
"I felt that you enjoyed it. You could have stopped when you were healed, but you wanted more. The marks of your teeth are still on my neck."  
  
I blushed with shame.  
  
"But it wasn't love," I said. It wasn't what I felt with Nick.  
  
"I've heard it said that humans are the only animal that blushes," said Legato. "Do you suppose that's true?"  
  
I didn't answer. I was still burning with shame over what I had done to him.  
  
"Love," said Legato and he paused for a long moment while he seemed to consider the word that I had said. "I have felt what the priest feels for you."  
  
"And do you covet that love for yourself?"  
  
"You misunderstand. I believe that my master has that kind of love for me, but he won't allow me to feel it yet."  
  
"Yes, you only feel his hatred."  
  
"He's testing me, hoping I can rise above my human nature."  
  
"You're wrong. I see that he is jealous, but I don't think it's love. It's possession. He can't stand the thought of either of us exercising free will."  
  
"Freedom? Will?"  
  
Legato closed his eyes and laughed softly.  
  
"No, he's been testing me, but I've been too weak. I would give my life for him, but fear holds me back and I fail him."  
  
"I don't think he wants your life," I said. "He wants your death."  
  
"Maybe that is what it will take, but one day he will know his true feelings. I'm wearing him down. I know it," Legato said with wistful conviction. He swallowed another shot and set down the small glass and stroked his fingers around the rim.  
  
Some few moments later, he said, "Knives tried to win his brother's love but his brother judged him harshly and punished him cruelly. I have never judged my master. I can forgive him anything." he said with more intensity than I had ever seen him show.  
  
"If you love him so much then why do you dirty yourself with me?"  
  
I saw his lower lip tremble when I said that. He had no response as I got up to leave, but I heard him murmur as I exited the doors, "Because you're the only one who understands."  
  
To Be Continued 


	40. Out of Reach

Out of Reach  
  
I walked home in a thoughtful mood, concerned about my father. I had not missed the threat implicit in the phrase Legato used. "Master Knives is aware of your activities and he is not pleased."  
  
Perhaps Knives' was angry that my father had used the agents for his own purpose. I wondered how he had found out about the inquiries.  
  
Next morning, I went into town with what little luggage I had and met Legato at the Maytime Hotel.  
  
Despite how much he'd drunk the night before, he showed no trace of a hangover, but looked at me expressionless, and asked, "Have you finished what you came here to do?"  
  
"Yes," I replied.  
  
"Then let's go," he said and led the way to the armored car reserved for his use.  
  
Once we were settled, the driver, one of Leonof's puppets, started the engine and the vehicle rumbled slowly onto the road that led out of town.  
  
Legato's pulled out a couple of fairly thick briefing packets from a box on the seat next to him and handed one to me.  
  
"These are some of the strategies worked out by Master Knives and myself with input from our agents in place," he said. "You'll need to familiarize yourself with the contents . These are our best guesses about the probable reactions of Vash the Stampede when presented with various scenarios . We need to be flexible in our responses as he has shown himself to be unpredictable in the past."  
  
As I skimmed through Master Knives' plans, I noticed that there was an element in each of them that involved a choice for Vash the Stampede of whether to kill or be killed. The scenarios reminded me of the moves in a chess game. I looked at the geographical locations on a map--Kasted City, Little Jersey, New Oregon, Sky City?  
  
"I've never heard of Sky City," I said aloud.  
  
Legato looked up from the documents he was reading and said, " Knives and his brother were on one of the ships that fell onto this planet over 130 years ago. Other fallen ships were the seeds of the seven great cities. Most people are unaware that one ship never crashed and is still in orbit above us. That ship is Sky City."  
  
"Fascinating," I said and then I gestured at the document I was reading "This scenario calls for Hoppered, Grey Nine-Lives and Leonof to work as a team there. How are they going to get up to the ship?"  
  
"After I have linked with Master Knives, there is generally a boost in my abilities," said Legato. "I will have more than enough power to teleport them."  
  
As intriguing as Legato's information was about the ship in the sky, I was far more interested in what he had let slip about the boost in power after linking with Knives. That was why my music had killed the members of my band, I realized, and why my playing had caused the thunderstorm out on the weapon range.  
  
The realization that Knives had more to do with the deaths of my friends than he had let on riveted me, and eased my guilt. I gave a sigh of relief, raised my head and saw Legato looking at me.  
  
"Have you seen the notes about Carcassus and Tonim Town?" he inquired.  
  
"I was just starting that section," I replied putting aside my thoughts about the band.  
  
Tonim Town and Carcassus were towns where "preparations" were to be made by Legato himself.  
  
"It seems that the population of Carcassus has disappeared without a trace," he told me with a faint smile.  
  
I had read of the phenomenon in the Mei City Times and I had no doubt that Legato was responsible.  
  
I began to reexamine the plans. I plotted the points of the cities and towns involved in the planning sheets on a map and the data made it clear to me that Knives was attempting to channel his brother in a southerly direction. My finger followed the trail until it came to rest on the name of a small city at the southernmost point of Southern Cornelia--Demethri.  
  
"Knives is in Demethri," I said.  
  
Legato said, "Just for the time being. I must congratulate you on your analytical skills, Midvalley. You're more gifted than Knives gives you credit for."  
  
He put his papers aside and said, "So what do you think of our plans, Hornfreak?"  
  
"Very neat. It looks like you'll have him trapped like a rat in a maze. It looks tidy enough on paper, but I know it's going to get bloody."  
  
"Most likely," said Legato, as he stood up and opened the door of the vehicle which had come to a stop.  
  
He stepped out and I followed him.  
  
"This is Warrens City," he said. "Let's eat at the café, then I have business."  
  
I ordered a couple of donuts and coffee, Legato ordered two slices of raspberry cheesecake, "Care for a slice, Midvalley, " he asked me.  
  
"No, thank you," I said as calmly as I could but my face flushed as the memory of what had happened the last time he'd made that offer flamed in my mind.  
  
When my order came, I went outside to get away from him. I couldn't tell whether he'd ordered the raspberry cheesecake to bait me, or just because he liked it. Was it a mind game? After agonizing for a few minutes, I ended up laughing at myself. I dunked my donut in the coffee and enjoyed my meal.  
  
Legato came out of the café a few minutes later.  
  
"I made some inquiries inside," he said. "Walk with me."  
  
We went to a shop at the edge of town. Frank Marlon, Gunsmith, read the sign outside.  
  
We walked in and Legato asked the man who was polishing an engraved revolver, "Are you Mr. Marlon?  
  
"Yes," said the man.  
  
Then Legato, with all his hypnotic skill put the man into a trance.  
  
"You had a customer, a priest," Legato said to Marlon in a voice like spun silk.  
  
"Wolfwood," mumbled Marlon..  
  
"What did he want?"  
  
"I repaired a handgun for a friend of his."  
  
"What friend?" asked Legato smoothly.  
  
"Vash," said Marlon, "Vash the Stampede."  
  
"That's all I wanted to know," said Legato. We left the gunsmith asleep on his feet and returned to our vehicle.  
  
"Marlon seemed to think that your former partner was a friend of Vash the Stampede. I wonder how he got that impression?" he asked in a bland tone, but I felt sure he was baiting me again. First the raspberry cheesecake, now the snide comment about my "former partner."  
  
I was tired of his games and decided to play one of my own.  
  
"That last minute business that Knives had to discuss with you before you came to Mei City, what was that about," I said in a conversational tone as I got into the armored car.  
  
Legato had no response for that. All I had to do to shut him up was remind him of Knives, I thought, and indeed, he was quiet the rest of the day. That evening, we arrived at the outskirts of Kasted City, where my agent had first sighted the Humanoid Typhoon.  
  
"Vash the Stampede knows who I am," Legato told me, "and he must not see me as it is vital to keep our plans a surprise, so you'll be staying on here without me. After I rendezvous with the other Gung Ho Guns in this area, I'll be traveling to southern Cornelia again to arrange more disappearances. In the meantime, your mission is to observe the way the scenario in town plays out and keep Master Knives informed on the success or failure of our enterprise. He also wanted news of his brother. I could think of no one more qualified than you to make the assessment of his brother's physical and mental state.  
  
Make no attempt to contact other agents in the area for any reason. We don't want to arouse the suspicions of Vash the Stampede. Though he may play the fool, I assure you he is anything but."  
  
I took my luggage from the armored car and headed off on foot towards the town. I heard the vehicle rumble away.  
  
My first stop was at a tavern that also served meals. I got my first glimpse up close of the humanoid typhoon while I ate a late dinner there. He was in the company of a young girl, about twelve or so. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt and vest. He looked like a bumpkin with his homespun clothes, scuffed shoes, long unkempt hair and unshaven face. The girl called to him, "Ericks, now stay out of trouble. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."  
  
So Vash the Stampede was calling himself Ericks, now.  
  
One of the drunks in the tavern got rowdy and shoved another of the patrons off the barstool next to him. Then he smashed the bottle he'd been drinking from and tried to gut the man with the pointed shards of the bottleneck.  
  
No one lifted a finger to help or even showed any interest in the drama. The drunks kept drinking and the diners kept eating. I think I was the only one watching and what I saw happened so fast, I almost wondered if I'd seen it.  
  
Ericks was walking over to say something to the bartender, but he tripped over his own feet and accidentally bumped heads with the violent drunk. He and Ericks ended up on the floor both of them out cold. Ericks came to a minute later and acted groggy. I could tell that he was faking it, but there was a deep cut in his wrist where the jagged bottle had sliced it.  
  
"How clumsy can you get, Ericks?" taunted a burly man at the bar rail, but he threw him a bar towel. Ericks missed the catch, picked it up and tried to staunch the bleeding. A minute or so later, the girl returned and saw the bloody towel.  
  
"Ericks," she scolded him, "I told you to stay out of trouble. Oh, now, you're hurt again. Let's go to the doctor's and get you sewn up."  
  
"There was going to be a fight, Lina. They might have gotten hurt if I hadn't stepped in," whispered Ericks.  
  
"And you're the one who ends up bleeding, as usual," she answered. "What am I going to do with you? You don't take care of yourself."  
  
She took him by the hand and after they left, the bar was peaceful again. I heard grumbling about how stupid, clumsy, and careless that Ericks was. The Humanoid Typhoon had disguised himself well. No wonder it had taken so long to find him.  
  
But I had seen his amazing speed. Vash the Stampede had prevented a death with his quick action. The only person I'd ever known capable of matching him was Nick.  
  
After dinner, I rented a room on the second story of a boarding house across the street from the tavern.  
  
I went to bed, and the next morning, at breakfast in an outdoor café, I saw the Humanoid Typhoon make another appearance, this time in the company of an old woman driving a wagon pulled by a pair of tomases. She went to the General Store, with Ericks and Lina in tow. I walked over and took a seat on a bench outside the store. I lit up a cigarette for something to do and listened to her banter with the owner of the store. He called her Cheryl.  
  
She was frank and outspoken with a mental toughness that reminded me a little of Miss Adelaide at the White Cat Saloon. I sensed that beneath her gruff exterior lay a kind heart.  
  
She bought wire fencing, groceries, and some big sacks of tomas feed. After Ericks loaded the wagon, they left town.  
  
I saw no need to follow them for Legato told me that Caine and Hoppered were conducting the surveillance on the ranch that Cheryl owned.  
  
There wasn't a lot going on in the town. Certainly no music to speak of. I'd asked the tavern owner if he ever had live music, and he flat out told me, no. Just a choir on Sundays at the church.  
  
I didn't have a lot on my schedule at the time, so I decided to lavish Silvia with attention. I changed out the felts on her stops and polished her up.  
  
I was never bored when I played Silvia, and after what Legato had said the day before, I thought that I might be able to play Silvia freely again. I'd had no intimate contact with Master Knives in months, and had played the gig at the Bedbug with no sign of the destructive power I'd shown at the White Cat Saloon.  
  
I sat by the window and picked up Silvia and held her close to my heart. I blew my first notes on and let the music flow through me...  
  
I lost track of time, but eventually I stopped, feeling a sense of peace. A little later, I brought out the music paper I'd purchased and starting writing down some of the phrases Silvia sang.  
  
I quit late in the afternoon and went to bed a few hours after dinner.  
  
I observed Ericks in action again the next morning, breaking up another altercation between two punks. He ended the fight between the boys, but not before he got punched by both a few times.  
  
I wrote my observations and wired them to Knives  
  
"The subject appears to have a horror of violence to the extent that he would rather be wounded himself than allow others to be hurt. It almost seems that the destruction of the two cities and the act of crippling his brother were aberrations from his normal way of conducting himself. I looked for signs of mental instability but found none."  
  
I didn't think that Knives would like my report, but I filed it anyway.  
  
That afternoon, a gang of outlaws showed up in the town. The leader was a swinish man almost as wide as he was tall. His behavior disgusted me and I was tempted to use Silvia against him, but the scenarios warned against interfering in any way since some of the people involved were actors hired for the occasion. It was important that everything appear natural and unrehearsed.  
  
By the next morning, the town was in an uproar. The Pigman's gang was causing so much destruction that people were eager to leave the town. From my room in the boarding house, I watched the action in the street. A bus arrived and let off one passenger. My heart was in my throat as I recognized Nick. Though he appeared tired and thin, he looked good to me. I was so agitated that I almost called out his name from the second story window but remembered I was to make no contact.  
  
My face heated and my heart beat fast just from seeing him again, and only the chatter of automatic rifles roused me from my fevered memories Out in the street, I saw people in panic, screaming and running for cover.  
  
The bus that Nick had just stepped off filled up with passengers while the ones left outside, fought over the last few seats and standing room. The driver finally closed the door, and rumbled off. It traveled barely two city blocks when an explosion rocked the vehicle, dumped it on its side, and the fuel tank exploded filling the air with thick gray smoke. The panicked passengers screamed and those who could, scrambled out of a jagged opening on the side and ran for shelter.  
  
Every so often, I would get a strong surge of feeling wanting to be with Nick again, but I didn't dare go down to the tavern. It wouldn't do to have a reunion with Nick and get caught by Vash the Stampede. He'd be suspicious for sure then, and all of the scenarios depended on the element of surprise. Vash must think that his movements came from his own free choice. He must never know that nearly all his movements were being orchestrated by his brother Knives.  
  
I picked up a sandwich from the kitchen in the boarding house and returned to the window in my room to observe. I hoped I'd get a glimpse of Nick again, but he didn't appear.  
  
It seemed like the town was getting peaceful again, The I saw Lina and Ericks arrive in a wagon pulled by tomases. The Pigman and his gang of outlaws appeared just as Lina was stepping down into the street. From my vantage point, by the window, I watched the Pigman tease her and grab her by the waist, "What's your hurry, girlie," he rasped. The girl was disgusted by his touch, even more when she pulled away and felt his hands on her buttocks. She whirled away, kicked high with her right foot and left a bootprint in the middle of his face.  
  
I laughed out loud.  
  
The outlaw uttered a high pitched squeal of rage and moved to paw her again but she wheeled out of his grasp and ran, weaving in and out of alleys and past ruined vehicles in the street. I saw her duck into the tavern followed by Ericks.  
  
The outlaw didn't know where she disappeared. He stamped up and down in frustration, and threw a headlock on a man passing by. He threatened to shoot his hostage if the girl wasn't surrendered. I shook my head as I wondered what person in his right mind would give in to that kind of feeble blackmail? And who was he addressing anyway? Ericks?  
  
I waited to see brains splattered in the street.  
  
"Just shoot him and get it over with, " I mumbled to myself. "Nobody cares."  
  
Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised when Ericks left the bar, came out on the street with his hands up, then begged on his hands and knees to have the hostage released and for the girl to be left unharmed. But I was.  
  
The Pigman surprised me by saying that he might let the hostage go, but only if Ericks stripped naked, got down on all fours and barked like a dog.  
  
"That hostage is as good as dead," I said to myself and waited to hear the gunshot that would end the man's life.  
  
I truly did not expect it when Ericks stood up and stripped off his clothes. Even though I already knew about the vast network of scars on his body, still I was shocked to see them in the cold light of day. The man had been through hell, it was clear. But whatever hell it had been, still he got down on all fours and started barking, even scratching like a hound dog with fleas. I heard groans of disgust from the men on the street at the sacrifice of dignity.  
  
I found myself admiring the courage that he showed. I doubted my own ability to do the same, no matter what was at stake. I was surprised when the Pigman seemed to honor the bargain and got in his armored truck which sped away down the street. The drama was over, but then a machine gun barked and rocked the body of Vash the Stampede with the bullet's impact. His bleeding body toppled slowly to the ground.  
  
"That wasn't in the script," I said.  
  
Lina ran out to him from the tavern. Nick followed after with a tablecloth in his arms. He covered Ericks with it, picked him up and set him in the bed of the wagon. Lina got up and took the reins, while Nick ran back into the tavern. I saw him come out with the Cross Punisher. He got in, while Lina urged the tomas team into motion and the vehicle set off in a hurry, to a hospital I was sure. Ericks looked gravely injured.  
  
"Now what?" I wondered.  
  
I went downstairs and asked the landlady at the boarding house where the hospital was and she pointed in the direction that Lina's wagon had traveled.  
  
I worried for a while that Vash the Stampede might die and knew how angry Knives would be if that happened, but then I had a thought that made me confident that the Humanoid Typhoon was still alive. If the blast that leveled July couldn't kill Knives, one bullet certainly wasn't going to finish off his brother.  
  
I was tired of being cooped up and decided to go for a walk. I couldn't say for sure whether the desire to see Nick again if only from a distance had anything to do with it, then again, probably a lot. Still, worry for my father made me veer away from the hospital.  
  
As I walked, I couldn't help thinking about Nick. Having him so close to me and unable to contact him was agony. My nerves were in shreds. I must have walked for at least an hour or more. I was on the edge of town, when I saw a large mansion in the distance. It looked like it was heavily guarded. I had passed by a church with a bell tower just minutes earlier. I walked back to the church and quickly scaled the steps that led to the belfry. I had a bird's eye view of the terrain.  
  
I saw the Pigman at the mansion make a signal to his men. They were armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. I heard the sound of massive gunfire and looked to see their target. My view was blocked by another building as the gunfire continued without letup. Finally I saw two men emerge into my line of sight--- "Ericks" and Nick. The blonde had made a quick recovery.  
  
They walked slowly towards the mansion while bullets whizzed past them. I estimated they were outnumbered 100 to 1 and was concerned for Nick, but then saw him flick the clasp on the canvas that covered the Cross Punisher. With a graceful move, he hefted the massive weapon as if it were a child's plaything and pulled the trigger. Heavy fire from his .50 cal raked the building, his bullets taking out assailants with pinpoint accuracy.  
  
The humanoid typhoon in action was equally impressive. He carried the pistol that I had seen at Augusta. I never saw anyone, who could shoot faster, and every bullet the Stampede fired found a target though his shots had no killing power. It finally dawned on me, that he wasn't trying for a kill. He did just enough damage to stop the violence.  
  
Minutes later, the battle was over and to my relief, Nick didn't have a scratch on him and Vash the Stampede looked as good as new.  
  
I returned to town after that and listened to the shocked comments of the townspeople who never knew that The Vash had been living in their city for months and months. They all wished he would leave as soon as possible.  
  
He'd just saved their town, and this was how they paid him back? It didn't give me a lot of respect for the townspeople when I heard them talk. Not that I was a fan of the guy. But he deserved better than that. I was fairly certain that The Humanoid Typhoon would leave.  
  
I reviewed the packet of plans when I got back to the boarding house.  
  
Knives predicted that his brother's next move, once he was pulled out of retirement in Kasted City, would be to visit Southern Cornelia, where Legato had gone.  
  
I went to the wire office to check for messages. Hoppered's note informed me that Vash was making plans to leave the next day, so I made arrangements to purchase a car and a couple of trucks. I was going to need to follow him and continue observing. The car was for me and two of Hoppered's agents were to drive the trucks. After my preparations were finished, I sat in vigil by my window.  
  
The next morning, Vash the Stampede showed up sporting his trademark spiked haircut. Nick walked beside him. They seemed friendly, and I tried not to let that bother me. When they left town on a second-hand motorcycle, I wasn't far behind them with the two trucks following me.  
  
We followed the motorcycle south, careful to keep out of sight and knew where they were at all times because of the dust trail they raised, but some three hours later, when the dust trail stopped, so did we--- just outside of Little Jersey. They weren't in town long, but an hour later, I heard the sounds of sustained gunfire. I told the truck drivers to wait and drove into town to see what happened.  
  
It was a repeat of the drama at Kasted City. Outlaws had taken over the town, threatening death and destruction. By the time I got to the city center, the fighting was over and the city was a shambles. I asked a deputy what had happened  
  
"Vash the Stampede happened. That's what it was, but it was the damnedest thing--the outlaws are in jail and no one got killed."  
  
I made a note of my findings for the report I would file and then got back in my car and watched to see what would happen next.  
  
Nick and Vash the Stampede left town shortly after, escorted to the outskirts by the less than grateful citizens. I have to admit I was stricken with jealousy again when the blonde outlaw got on the bike behind Nick and encircled the priest's waist with his arms.  
  
"Keep your hands to yourself, dammit," I grumbled though there was no one to hear my complaint.  
  
After giving them a headstart, I gave the signal to the truck drivers and we followed the motorcycle south towards Southern Cornelia, but as before, the dust trail stopped.  
  
I got out of my car, took a pair of binoculars with me, stood up on the roof, and looked to see what happened. I saw Nick with a wrench in his hand, wrestling with the air filter on his motorcycle. I watched Nick's fruitless attempt to repair the cycle with a smile. I was sure that the breakdown was staged.  
  
Nick and the Vash the Stampede sat in the hot sunlight. I didn't know what happened to their canteen. They were thirsty, but the plans called for me to wait two hours before sending in a rescue truck . The second truck and driver were for back-up in case anything unforeseen occurred. I watched the truck approach the two stranded men and saw the driver offer a ride. Nick and his companion climbed into the bed of the truck and the vehicle took off. I followed at a discreet distance. I looked through the binoculars from time to time and saw the two of them rough-housing like school boys in the back of the truck, fighting over the canteen of water I had supplied to the truck driver for them. When the contents spilled out, I shook my head. Nick was right when he said the humanoid typhoon was a lot of trouble.  
  
The truck driver reached the spot where the road forked, but instead of heading south he came to a complete stop. Now what? I spied through my lenses and saw Vash pointing at a sign post. New Oregon lay Northwest, Kansas, to the south. The two passengers got out of the truck. Nick seemed to be vehemently protesting the change of plans for all the good it did him. The outlaw appeared adamant.  
  
The truck driver was under orders to continue to Kansas to avoid arousing suspicion, so it was time for Plan B. I waited an hour, to allay any suspicions that Vash might have about the fortuitous rescue and sent in the second truck.  
  
I watched Nick and his companion climb in the back of the truck bed and the driver headed his vehicle northeast towards New Oregon and I followed them all the way in my car.  
  
A cavalry trooper stopped me outside the city.  
  
"You shouldn't go into New Oregon if you don't have to," he advised me. "There's a feud going on between the Polo and Fris families. Both families are fighting over rights to the satellite broadcast system. Some girl got killed, not sure what faction she was in, but I can tell you that both sides are out for blood and money. It's a war and they don't care who gets hurt. I just heard on the wire that the Polo family hijacked a sandsteamer and it's headed this way. They've taken hostages. I'm warning you to turn away. It's going to get bloody. Lots of travelers have already been killed by mistake."  
  
"Thanks," I told him, "but I've got urgent business in town."  
  
"All right, Mister, but don't say I didn't warn you."  
  
I drove after the truck. There was enough traffic that I didn't worry about getting close. The truck stopped by the satellite broadcast station and Vash the Stampede and Nick got out of the vehicle. I parked my car and watched to see what they would do next. They walked down the street and into a restaurant.  
  
That reminded me how hungry and thirsty I was myself.  
  
I went to the wire office to see if there was any new information from other agents and picked up a couple of messages. I stopped in at a diner and ordered a tomas burger to go and a bottle of beer. I went back to my car and read my wires while I ate the burger.  
  
One of the wires announced that the Bernardelli insurance agents, Meryl Stryfe and Millie Thompson had been assigned to follow Vash the Stampede again in an effort to minimize the destruction of property that always seemed to occur when he was around.  
  
"I wish you luck, girls," I said to myself, "but I just don't think it's going to work."  
  
I was even surer than ever when I re-read the strategic plans that Knives and Legato had developed for the Polo/Fris scenario.  
  
This operation was Leonof's brainchild. He had long been aware of the blood feud between the Polo and Fris families. It was just the kind of situation that would create opportunities for human death and destruction, the kind of situation that caused Vash the Stampede so much pain.  
  
I knew that the satellite station was central to Leonof's plans, so I found myself a good place to view the action on the roof of one of the taller buildings in the area. I watched with my binoculars, musing over the events of the day, when the hijacked sandsteamer came into view. It was moving too fast. The massive vehicle didn't stop when it reached the depot but instead plowed on until it piled with a horrendous crunching sound into the building that held the broadcast booth for the satellite.  
  
For a while nothing happened, but I saw passengers fleeing the stopped steamer. I heard the sound of explosives and gunfire coming from inside the giant vehicle.  
  
It wasn't long before I heard the loudspeaker in the transmissions booth broadcasting everything that went on in the room. I heard angry threats and then the voice of Vash the Stampede pleading for a man's life. I heard the hard smack of fists on flesh, and the agonized pleas of the Humanoid Typhoon and then the sobs of a man about to execute the man who had raped and murdered his daughter. I waited for the shot to ring out that would signal the murderer's death.  
  
"I can't do it. Why can't I do it?" I heard the man sob.  
  
This was not what Knives had planned. Not at all. He expected that one death would bring another and another and another in a cascade chain reaction that would turn the streets of New Oregon into rivers of blood--- but that's not how the scenario played out.  
  
When I thought of Vash the Stampede's actions in the past three cities, I began to see a pattern. In Kasted City, in Little Jersey, and now in New Oregon. Massive life of loss was expected, but after the outlaw arrived, no one died. Vash the Stampede had surprised me again.  
  
A few minutes later, the blonde outlaw emerged from the broadcast station, his face swollen and bloody. I must admit that he puzzled me, but I was beginning to feel a grudging admiration for his strength of will. I had to respect that. He didn't seem to care when property got damaged, but he was obsessed with preserving human life.  
  
It confused me though. He wanted to protect the lives even of good-for- nothing scum and murderers. "Just like me," I said to myself.  
  
I scanned the crowd around the crashed sandsteamer and saw Nick squatting on the ground, eating a bowl of ramen. Vash the Stampede was gone for the moment. I was seized by an irresistible desire to be with Nick, to let him know I was there, and then my thoughts ran wild, to embracing, to kissing, to---God, Nick---but I remembered what Legato said---"Make no attempts to contact other agents for any reason."  
  
For my father's sake, I didn't want to violate that prohibition, but it was killing me seeing Nick so nearby and unable to contact him. I tried to be professional about it. "You'll live longer, Midvalley," I told myself. Another part that grew in strength with every second that passed said, "Go to him now!  
  
But then I saw Vash the Stampede again. There were two women in the outlaw's company. I was amazed that the insurance girls had made the trip so rapidly. My heart fell as Nicholas joined them a moment later, the Cross Punisher on his shoulder. Nick exchanged a few words with the Vash the Stampede and then left. Miss Stryfe stayed in the company of Vash.  
  
The strangest feeling of joy took hold of me. I could go to Nick now while he was alone. With trembling knees and my heart in my throat, I got to my feet and started to climb down from the roof. I was half-way down when I saw the other Bernardelli agent, Millie Thompson, follow Nick and call to him. He turned and waited for her to catch up.  
  
I'd missed my opportunity. I felt a crushing weight on my chest as I watched them walk out of sight.  
  
As I finished my descent, I felt no need to continue following the outlaw for the moment. Leonof was in command of this operation and I knew he had Vash the Stampede under close surveillance.  
  
I also knew that Knives would want to receive my assessment of events, so despite my depression over being unable to connect with Nick, I pushed my feelings aside. I had a report to write.  
  
I went to a café and while I sipped my coffee, I wrote my impressions of the mission. I wondered if Knives or Legato would consider Leonof's gambit a success. I was fairly certain that Legato would call it failure and I would have agreed.  
  
Despite all our planning, Vash the Stampede had altered events through the sheer force of his will and no one had died. It took me two hours and three pages to come to that conclusion.  
  
I finished the report late that evening and walked to the wire office to send it. With nothing else to occupy my mind, I began to feel my frustration over having lost my chance to be with Nick. I was disappointed and began to get angry as I waited for confirmation from the wire operator that my message had been safely received. "Fucking Knives," I thought to myself as I pushed through the door carelessly and stumbled into the man just coming in .  
  
"Watch where you're going, Mister," he said and caught me before I fell.  
  
"Midvalley!"  
  
It was Nick.  
  
.to be continued. 


	41. Bread of Heaven

Bread of Heaven  
  
I stumbled and almost fell, but Nick steadied me and a warm flush stole over my body. I saw his face in the dim light that spilled out the window of the wire office.  
  
"We shouldn't be seen together, " I said. I didn't know why that was the first phrase out of my mouth when I was so glad to see him.  
  
"Hey, it's dark, don't worry so much," said Nick. He had the Cross Punisher over his shoulder but slid his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him.  
  
His affection moved me deeply and my arms tightened around him. A feeling of heat bloomed in my chest.  
  
For a moment it seemed that time stood still and I held every good thing safe in my arms. I never wanted to let go, but a customer came out of the wire office and gave us an odd look before heading away down the boardwalk.  
  
"What about your report?" I asked. "You were just about to wire it in, right? "  
  
"Ah, you know me--it's not a long one, hardly worth sending in. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow instead."  
  
"No, go ahead and send it."  
  
"But, I hate to let you out of my sight. You don't know what a time I've had trying to get in touch with you."  
  
"I'll wait for you," I said with a grin.  
  
He went into the office and I leaned on the railing outside and looked up into the night sky.  
  
I enjoyed the feeling of anticipation as I thought back to our embrace. Knowing that I would be with him if only for a little while, made me happy. The glow lasted a bit, but I didn't know how long we'd have together and I began to sadden.  
  
I supposed he would have to return shortly to stand guard on Vash the Stampede and my mood started to falter more. Though it was clear Nick was glad to see me, worry wove in my mind like spider silk. I looked at the gold sliver of moon hanging above the city and had the image of Legato watching me through the link.  
  
"He's far away in Southern Cornelia," I told myself. "Way out of telepathic range. He'll never know that Nick is here."  
  
But my gut told me, "Don't fool yourself. He's probably here already."  
  
Legato.  
  
My mind tried to sort out the consequences of that fact. I began to worry about my father, about Nick's safety, and about how long it would be until I was required to return to duty. Guilt stabbed me when I thought about Legato. The warmth that I 'd felt in Nick's arms bled away and by the time he came out of the office and joined me at the railing, I felt cold and almost hopeless.  
  
Then he bent his head close to mine, and said, "Let's get a room for the night."  
  
The cold, fear and guilt vanished. Damn the consequences.  
  
"The Salem Inn is about a half-ile away from here," said Nick. "It has private cabins instead of suites. We could get as noisy as we like. Hell, you could even play Silvia if you wanted."  
  
" I think I saw the place on my way in. My car is parked close by," I said. "Five minutes and we're there."  
  
"Let's go," he said and we started off.  
  
"What about your assignment?" I asked.  
  
"I'm free until noon tomorrow.  
  
"You?"  
  
"I'm free too," I replied.  
  
When we got to the Inn, I registered and asked the motherly woman at the desk, "Do you have any room service?"  
  
"There's no fixed menu. It's informal here," she said. "  
  
Our guests usually eat at the restaurant across the road," she continued, "but it's closed for the night. Still, I baked bread today and just made a fresh pot of coffee. There's a brick of cheese and smoked salmon. I have cold beer and wine. It wouldn't take long to put a tray together for you. I could bring it over to your cabin in a few minutes." she said.  
  
"That sounds good," I replied.  
  
She figured out the bill and I paid for the food and lodging in advance.  
  
The woman gave me a key, walked to the door and pointed out the window to a small building some distance away.  
  
"Number Seven is yours. It's very peaceful. You should be able to sleep undisturbed. Just drop off the key when you leave."  
  
The cabin held two double beds, a couch, a table and two chairs. I checked one of the doors, and found a closet. The other door led to the bathroom.  
  
Nick stretched, took off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair, pulled out his cigarettes and matches and lit up a smoke.  
  
"Want one, Midvalley?"  
  
"Sure," I said  
  
He started a cigarette for me. I took it from him, brought it to my lips, took a puff and exhaled with a long sigh. I was starting to relax.  
  
I answered a knock on the door and accepted the tray of food and drinks from the woman with my thanks.  
  
"I'll take a beer," said Nick and I opened the two long-necks and passed him one.  
  
"Here's to answered prayers," he said and he clinked his bottle against mine, by way of a toast.  
  
"Answered prayers," I repeated and took a drink of the cold beer and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.  
  
"I thought I'd never see you again," I said.  
  
He set down the beer, walked over to me and embraced me, "I've been praying for quite a while that we could be together again," he said gently.  
  
"I did too, but I gave up hope months ago. Maybe I should have had more faith. You know I'm not much of a believer, Nick," I shrugged apologetically.  
  
His hands went to my face, smoothed the hair from my brow. He moved his lips to mine, and kissed me.  
  
So much pain washed away in that moment. So much of the grief and doubt of the past months fell away as he hugged and kissed me.  
  
"Answered prayers," I murmured. I could almost believe it was possible. I kissed him back.  
  
For months, I had hungered for his touch , his laughter, his smile. I didn't know how lost I had been until I found him again. All I knew is that the ache in my heart was gone and in its place, I felt the stirring of some finer emotion.  
  
It was with some regret we separated, Nick with a final caress of my cheek.  
  
"Oh God, Midvalley," he laughed, chagrinned. "I'm rubbing your face raw with these whiskers of mine. I'm afraid you'll be scarred for life." He was only half-kidding.  
  
"I could use a shower and a shave too. It was hot and windy today and I've got sand everywhere," I said. A light shake of my head sent a small rain of it drifting to the floor.  
  
"Let's get cleaned up then."  
  
The invitation was irresistible, so I pulled out my shaving tackle and stepped into the bathroom.  
  
"I'll be with you in a minute," said Nick, "I just want to finish this cigarette  
  
I stripped, turned on the warm water and stepped under the shower.  
  
I washed and shampooed quickly, and was rinsing off, with the water sluicing down my back when Nick stepped into the tub and joined me. He took a wash cloth and soap and started to lather my body. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the sensations his touch aroused in me. I had missed his tenderness and was soon hot, bothered and needy with desire. I soaped him up next and his body responded to my touch.  
  
I closed my eyes when he parted my lips gently with his tongue and slid it in my mouth. The sound of the rushing shower and the intensity of his kiss made me feel faint and I sagged against the wall and moaned.  
  
"Midvalley are you all right? Nick asked, concerned.  
  
"That was some kiss," I sighed and we clung together skin on skin, a promise of things to come.  
  
"There's more where that came from," he said, "but I want to wash some of the sand out of this mop, so why don't you shave first and I'll join you later.  
  
I left the shower, dried myself and fastened the towel around my waist. I finished shaving in a few minutes, left the bathroom and lay back on the bed to wait for him. I was more tired than I realized and dozed off. I woke to find him lying next to me, chin propped in his hand.  
  
"You're awake.," he said. He stroked my clean-shaven face then cradled it in his hands. He brought his lips to mine and kissed me deeply.  
  
When he broke the kiss, he said with concern, "You look like you've been sick, Midvalley."  
  
"I was for a while. I think I almost died, but really, I'm okay now," I assured him.  
  
"Your dad gave me your letter. He told me you might be worried about him."  
  
"I have been a little," I said.  
  
"He told me to tell you not to worry about Legato's threat."  
  
"Well, that's a relief, anyway," I said.  
  
"Speaking of Legato," Nick said and then hesitated.  
  
"What about him?" I asked with a sigh.  
  
"Maybe this isn't the time to bring this up, but you said things had been difficult. Your father didn't give me all the details, but he said he'd been very concerned about you. When I ran into Lenny some months ago, he told me you looked out of it."  
  
"You know I had those fainting spells. I had another one, I guess, and I suppose I was at least half out of my mind for a couple of months or so. I don't recall much of what happened. I still have some holes in my memory, but I know that Lenny's dead--and Dixie....and the rest of them.."  
  
"I knew that. Hot Lips he told me some of the things that happened to you. He told me about Knives..."  
  
I flushed scarlet with shame first and then froze at the recollection of Knives had done to me. I was too ashamed to admit I had been raped. The memory of my powerlessness on that day hit me like a hammer. Suddenly, I was afraid to say a word, certain that doing anything beyond lying back with my eyes closed would bring on tears. I hoped that my silence would make Nick drop the subject, but he didn't.  
  
"Your father told me that Knives only raped you to use your healing ability. He told me you probably would have died if it hadn't been for Legato."  
  
And now he had mentioned Legato and with a heavy weight of guilt on my heart, I sighed heavily, opened my eyes and saw Nick watching me.  
  
"Do you know what Legato did?" I asked, and looked away, uncomfortable.  
  
"I think so. He probably had sex with you."  
  
Feeling even more uncomfortable, I sat up.  
  
"He did," I admitted.  
  
Silence followed this confession, a silence that went on too long and shredded my nerves.  
  
Finally just to break it, I muttered half to him and half to myself, "Fucking Legato, anyway. For the first time in months, I can't feel him through the link. I finally get the chance to be with you again and it's all fucked up. It figures. I damned near lost my mind and my music, my band-mates. Now I guess I've lost you, too."  
  
"It's all right, Midvalley," said Nick in a quiet voice.  
  
"It's not all right, Nick."  
  
He reached out to touch my shoulder. I flinched but he stroked it softly.  
  
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You've had a rough time of it," he said.  
  
My eyes began to sting and my voice got tight.  
  
"I've done things I'm ashamed of," I said and faltered, but strengthened my voice to add, "How is that okay with you?"  
  
"It doesn't matter to me. No one is perfect. I've done things too," Nick's voice trailed off.  
  
Another silence fell between us after this admission and I paused to let the weight of it sink in on me until I felt the beginning of jealousy eating like acid at my heart.  
  
"So what did you do?" I asked, half-afraid of the answer.  
  
"Besides lie and murder?" he asked sadly. "You were right, Midvalley. The road does get lonely."  
  
What did he mean by that? I couldn't bear to ask him. I just about gave in to despair, but he was still stroking the skin of my shoulder.  
  
Another long silence went on until finally Nick let out a long low sigh.  
  
"It's not a perfect world and I'm not a perfect person, but I do love you," he said, and pressed his lips to the soft flesh he had been stroking.  
  
His voice was tender, so I looked at him. I glanced at his eyes, I saw the sincerity of his warmth, but was still so ashamed I could not believe that it was for me.  
  
On the verge of tears with my voice quivering, I lashed out, "So, is this the face you show to Vash the Stampede?"  
  
"No, Midvalley," he said softly and kissed my cheek. "You're the only one who sees this side of me."  
  
I didn't respond. I was struggling to keep my tears dammed up.  
  
"You accept me as I am and never judged me. I love you for that."  
  
My tears began to spill over.  
  
"I need you," he said.  
  
I needed him too. Why couldn't I say it?  
  
He brought his fingers to my cheeks to and gently brushed away the tears. I didn't turn away when he poised his lips over mine.  
  
" I need you," he said again and kissed me.  
  
I hesitated at first to kiss him back, but he persisted with tender passion putting his all into the contact, and when I sighed and my mouth opened he laid the soft pillow of his tongue on mine. I could hold back no longer and I fed on it as if it were a holy wafer. When I finally released it, Nick moaned my name like a prayer.  
  
"Midvalley..."  
  
"I'm sorry," I whispered.  
  
"I'm sorry, too," he murmured back.  
  
The silence that fell between us then was comfortable.  
  
I smoothed the expanse of his torso with my hands and paused when I felt a rough spot. I saw the scar left from where the bullet he had taken for me pierced him. I leaned down to kiss it and asked him, "Does it hurt?"  
  
"Sometimes," he said  
  
He rolled onto me, kissed me again on the lips and then they moved to my neck and pressed ardent kisses from the base of my throat to my ear, "but it was worth it."  
  
His fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my nipples. My face flushed and I swallowed hard as his lips went where his hands had just been and his hands slipped lower and began to stroke.  
  
My body began to respond to his touch.  
  
His hand left my cock and he kissed me again and straddled me, he slid his cheek against mine and his tongue softly licked my ear.  
  
"I want you," he whispered.  
  
He pulled me to a sitting position and put his arms round me to pull me close to him and I saw an expression of concern on his face.  
  
"What's this?" he asked. "What's this I feel on your back."  
  
I'd forgotten the handiwork that Knives left when he raped me.  
  
Nick made me turn so that he could see. My back was welted with scar tissue.  
  
"Ah, Midvalley--- your beautiful skin---" Nick whispered and he took his arms away and left me cold.  
  
"He never should have ruined your beautiful skin."  
  
When I heard the shock and pain in his voice, I curled up on the mattress with my back to him and found myself in tears again.  
  
Nick lay down beside me and I felt his arms encircled me.  
  
"Ah, please don't cry, Midvalley," he begged, but the tears kept falling as I remembered the details of the violation.  
  
"He took what he wanted..I was nothing..just a thing to him.." I said with my voice shaking.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Midvalley," he whispered as he tenderly stroked the scars on my back.  
  
His voice and hands soothed me but still my tears flowed.  
  
"Hush...ah, Midvalley, I love you. I love you so much," he whispered.  
  
He pulled me closer into his protective embrace and held me for the longest time as I softly sobbed. And every now and then I felt one of his hot teardrops slide down my back.  
  
In time, the emotional storm passed. I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands, my tears spent. He didn't want to let me go, but finally, I sat up and turned to look at him.  
  
"I feel like a fool now," I said to Nick with a crestfallen smile. "I prayed for the chance to be with you. First time in my life a prayer gets answered and I have to fuck it up."  
  
"You didn't fuck it up."  
  
"Like hell, I haven't," I countered. "The time we have together dribbles away while I bawl like a baby. I mean, we go to the trouble of renting a cabin where we can make some noise---"  
  
"Not that making noise ever bothered us before," said Nick with a chuckle. "Remember the sandsteamer we took to Mei City? You had me pronged against the door as I recall, and just about battered it down with my ass, not that I'm complaining, mind you.. and the conductor asked, 'Is everything all right in there?' and you choke out, 'Everything's fine' which it was in spades, but God if he'd walked in on us---"  
  
"He might have gotten an eyeful" I chuckled in remembrance.  
  
"Yeah, an eyeful of joy juice. We shot pretty hard as I recall," said Nick with a leer.  
  
"Yeah, I think some ended up on the ceiling, but it was a pretty small compartment. I don't think I've laughed so hard since." I added.  
  
"We've had some crazy times together, partner," said Nick. "Remember when Grey Nine-Lives use E.G. Mine as a meat tenderizer at the graduation picnic?"  
  
I snickered at the recollection.  
  
"How about the time you had the shootout with Zazie and marked him with the sign of the cross in red paint. That had to be the first and only time I ever heard Caine the Longshot laugh."  
  
My attempt to make him smile fell flat.  
  
"What ever happened to Zazie anyway? Nick asked. "I haven't seen him since that day, "  
  
"He was at a meeting, a few months ago. I hear he is still communing with the hive mind."  
  
The mention of Zazie's name had been enough to chill Nick's mood. I'd forgotten how upset he'd been when Zazie killed Bernie Welch. Now I hurried to recall something that would make us laugh and keep things light- hearted.  
  
"Well, what about you at Burns's house and that butler with the huffy attitude ," I offered.  
  
"Musicians use the rear entrance," Nick smirked. "Especially true in your case, Middie," he said with a suggestive grin.  
  
"God, I always thought that for a priest you had one hell of a dirty mind. I thought I'd die laughing when you peered over the sunglasses and told him you were with the band."  
  
"You got to admit I've got good taste," said Nick. "Ever since I was a student at the apartments, I liked your music. I guess I got spoiled, but I have missed your playing as much as anything else about you. Why don't you play a song for me tonight, for old time's sake. I know Silvia could get us both in the mood again."  
  
"You know, Nick, I think you're right. Any requests?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah," he said. "I'd like to hear you play 'Serenade'--- just for me, Midvalley."  
  
I took Silvia from her case, lay back on the couch with her and began to play the song. Nick came up behind me and massaged my shoulders. It felt so good, I arched back into his touch. A little later, he knelt in front of me and the feel of his hot mouth on my cock made me gasp mid-note.  
  
Nick stopped what he was doing for a moment to say. "Keep playing."  
  
Easy for him to say, but much harder for me to do. I concentrated on easing the notes out of Silvia's throat... sweet clear notes and then dissonance when his lips compressed the tip.brief silence when he sucked me breathless, then a string of wild notes when his tongue drove me crazy..low discordant moans when I looked into his hungry eyes. Linked to Silvia, I somehow felt each touch more intensely.  
  
I blew on Silvia's reed and the hot slick notes poured out of her throat, while he throated me. I started to sweat, struggling to hit the peak, searching for that high note where Silvia's voice soared like a siren and when I did, I came shuddering in his mouth in a sweet ecstasy of sound and sensation that emptied me. When the spasms of pleasure passed, I found that my empathic link to him had opened wider than ever before.  
  
I set Silvia aside pulled him up into my arms .  
  
"I want you, Midvalley," his voice growled low and husky while his hands and mouth roamed my body.  
  
"Take me, Nick," I panted.  
  
He led me back to the bed and nudged me down.  
  
Linked so intensely with Nick, I felt his desire, felt his pleasure as he pierced and filled me. He pushed into me and began to thrust, muscles rippling, lips seeking.  
  
"More, Nick, more," I groaned as I clasped him tight to me. I felt joy when our bodies writhed to climax and a sense of peace and contentment when we lay together after.  
  
After a time passed, Nick asked me, "Are you tired?"  
  
"A little," I responded, "but I don't want to go to sleep just yet."  
  
"Neither do I."  
  
"If I was out playing music, we'd be starting the last set and then with any luck, I'd go out to another tavern, jam until dawn and maybe have breakfast at a café."  
  
"I'd probably be up too. I still don't need much sleep."  
  
"So let's stay up all night if we have to. Maybe we'll pay for it tomorrow- -"  
  
"Fuck tomorrow," said Nick. "Hell, it probably is tomorrow.Let's eat. I hope that the wine is cold and the coffee is hot."  
  
We had a picnic on the bed. We fed each other bites of salmon, slices of cheese and hunks of the fresh crusty bread. We drank the coffee and the blood red wine.  
  
After we drank, with the warmth of the alcohol coursing through us, we put aside our glasses and embraced again.  
  
For the first time in months, I felt truly happy and at ease.  
  
"Can I bum another cigarette?" I asked.  
  
He shook a couple out of his pack and lit them both and we smoked in silence for a while and then I asked him, "How are things going at the orphanage, and how are Annie and Ginnie and the sisters?"  
  
"Annie is as sweet and serious as ever. Blackie is a senior kitten now. We could hardly run the place without Ginnie, she makes herself so useful. Sister Rose? Thanks to your benefit concert, she got new glass and tubing for the hydroponics greenhouse. She's just about doubled the growing area and because of that, the money to feed the children stretches so much further."  
  
He was just warming to the subject, I could see.  
  
"...and Dr. Reed and Ruby have put together a first class infirmary, and Sister Luz, God love her, is a genius at making ends meet," he continued.  
  
I loved to hear the passion that he put into helping the orphans have a better life and I ended up grinning watching him talk with animated gestures.  
  
"...and as for the rest of the operation..."  
  
He stopped mid-sentence when he saw me smiling, then asked, "What is it?"  
  
"I'm just happy, I guess," I said.  
  
I reached over to the chair to dig into the pocket of my suit jacket. I pulled out a packet of papers and set it in front of him.  
  
"Not to be morbid or anything, because I'm in a pretty good mood right now, thanks to you," I said as preamble, "but---I made a will."  
  
He didn't look at it, just gave me a grin and said, "So Hot Lips gets Midvalley's millions if you kick the bucket?"  
  
"My father's got enough money. If I die, I want the money to go to you and the orphans."  
  
"You're not gonna die," said Nick with a look of total disbelief.  
  
"Right," I said, but I looked away. "...but anyhow, there's still money coming in from my two mini-albums. You could sell the house in Mei City. As for the studio, I always thought it would be a great idea to teach the orphans how to make recordings. It would be another source of revenue for the orphanage and another good career to train the kids in. I thought you could move the equipment to December and maybe ask Kima if she would help out.."  
  
Nick's hand settled over mine. I looked up to see him smiling at me, his eyes shining.  
  
"I see you've given this a lot of thought and I'm grateful, but you're not going to die," he said. "I have a will too, Midvalley, but if I die, everything goes to the orphans. Even my father thinks it's a good idea."  
  
I snorted, "Hell, Nick, I know that---"  
  
"I thought about leaving something to you to remember me by," he said and tears started to fill his eyes, "but all I have are these feelings.."  
  
I could feel his love for me through the link and his pain at the thought of losing me. The bittersweet sensation brought fresh tears to my eyes.  
  
Nick fisted his hands and wiped his eyes.  
  
"You know, I honestly thought I was going to make it through the night without crying because I was so happy to see you, but the thought of you dying." he shrugged and didn't finish the thought.  
  
He paused to take a drag of his cigarette and after he exhaled, he asked me, "Why did you make a will, Midvalley?"  
  
"Legato's been acting very strange lately and saying things."  
  
"Legato may act strange," said Nick, "but he's nobody's fool. What has he been saying?"  
  
"He advised me to put my affairs in order, said something about a 'final disposition' and told me to make good use of the time I had left."  
  
Nick sighed and looked uncomfortable.  
  
"I went to a meeting, Nick. It was back when Knives started getting serious about finding his brother. I asked him point blank if he wanted his brother found dead or alive. He said alive, of course. Now I know that's why Knives sent the best damned bodyguard on the planet to look out for his brother, not that I believe that Vash the Stampede needs the help."  
  
Nick leaned back to listen to what I had to say.  
  
"When I thought about it though, I realized that Knives is up to something. Think about it, Nick. Dominique is dead and Monev the Gale. E. G. Mine and Rai-dei the Blade---all dead---executed for failing to 'kill' someone that Knives doesn't really want killed. It's a paradox at first glance."  
  
Nick was hanging on my words.  
  
"Knives never wanted him dead in the first place," I went on. "He knows his brother has an incredible will to survive. The Gung-ho Guns? We're just sacrificial lambs to be slaughtered. If Vash the Stampede finally decides to kill us in self-defense or from the realization of just how worthless we are, Knives will be happy, but he'll be just as happy if we fail to kill him and then has us executed. I've seen how he has us leave the bodies where his brother will see them. I've seen enough of Vash the Stampede to realize that for whatever reason, it puts him agony to see lives ended violently. One way or the other, Nick, I think I'm going to die. When it's all said and done, I don't think even your father, Leonof, and Legato will survive.  
  
"Don't bet on it, Midvalley," Nick scoffed. But then he grew worried.  
  
"But what if Knives and Legato decide to pit us against each other?" he asked and I knew through the link that the thought made him physically ill.  
  
"They've done it before," I said. "E.G. Mine killed Monev the Gale and Dominique."  
  
"What if I have to go up against my father?" asked Nick. "He's so loyal to Knives, I'm sure he'd kill me without a second thought, and what if I have to go up against you, Midvalley---"  
  
"It won't matter to me if they do, Nick." I had long since thought out my response to that scenario. "Even if they kill me, I swear I will never hurt you."  
  
"I swear I'll never hurt you either. I love you, Midvalley," he said and he kissed me.  
  
The thought that we might die, made us cling to each other and we made love again in defiance of death but in the full knowledge that this might be the last time we would ever be joined this way.  
  
Afterwards, we settled together and just before we fell asleep, Nick turned to me and said, "Promise me if you die, we'll meet on the other side."  
  
"I don't believe in that stuff, Nick. When you die you're dead."  
  
"Promise me, Midvalley..."  
  
I kept telling him I didn't believe but he kept insisting. Finally just to make him happy, I said, "If I die, I promise we'll meet up on the other side."  
  
He sighed with relief, then spooned my body with his and was asleep only moments before sleep claimed me.  
  
I dreamed.  
  
"You've been a bad boy, Midvalley..."  
  
I don't know where the voice is coming from. I'm lost in a mist but I can hear the voice so very faint. It sounds like her.  
  
"You've been very bad," says the voice and when the mist parts and I walk down the hall of the academy and I see Chapel the Evergreen frowning at me. "I'm disappointed in you," he says and I keep on walking, down the alley where the men wait with the chain for my neck.  
  
"This un's been real bad. This fucking bitch bit me. Gonna teach this goddamn dog a lesson. Don't bite your master." Their voices swell the chorus an echo that fills my mind.  
  
"Bad."  
  
"Bad boy."  
  
"You've been bad."  
  
"You're no good."  
  
"Worthless."  
  
"Scum."  
  
"Why did you do it?" I hear Dixie's voice now, and she and Lenny, and Sunny and Toby and Dave shuffle past me with their shattered bodies. Their empty eyes accuse me.  
  
"I'm sorry," I say but they don't hear me.  
  
"You've been a bad boy, Midvalley," says another voice behind me.  
  
I turn and she's under me while I fuck her.  
  
"Dominique." I gasp in surprise.  
  
"Who are you gonna fuck if you can't fuck a buddy," she says and her voice dies away and she shrivels into a corpse. I pull my cock in horror from her rotting flesh, then turn when I hear a honeyed voice whisper," You've been a bad boy, Midvalley."  
  
"Time for his punishment," says Knives, his voice a harsh hiss. "Take his horn away."  
  
Someone rips Silvia from my grasp. I moan like an animal and try to see where she is, but torch light blinds me and I am shoved and swept along in a jostling crowd. Teeth slaver and mouths spit on me, a whip cuts my flesh, hands push me along.  
  
"Gonna get what's coming to you."  
  
" He's a bad one," the voices jeer.  
  
I trip and fall over rocks and stones. The whips fall again and rip my flesh.  
  
"Get up. Get up, dog." A chain is thrown around my neck  
  
"Help me, someone help me," I call out while my hands fight against the choke chain.  
  
"Where are you taking me?" my voice is hoarse and guttural.  
  
They just laugh and shove and hit me, kick me and whip me when I fall. Then the men start to drag me. As I struggle to my feet, I see something in the distance that fills with my heart with dread.  
  
At the top of the hill. Something sick. Something strange...  
  
"No, no don't do this" I beg, but the hands push and pull me along. I hear more voices and the sound of a heavy hammers pounding nails, screams of agony and screams of laughter.  
  
I trip over a plank of wood and hands strip me and push me down. I struggle to get away.  
  
"Tie him up, boys," says a voice and hands lash my body to the plank. My eyes rake wildly through the crowd and I see a naked man nailed to a cross being lifted up---  
  
It's Vash the Stampede, his body bleeding and marred by scars.  
  
"You're a friend of his, aren't you?"  
  
I turn anxiously to find out who said that.  
  
The man with the hammer kneels down next to me a spike in his left hand.  
  
My heart beats with fear and I have to look away, but I see another cross raised up--covered in white canvas bound with black straps. A man's naked body is nailed to it and blood runs from his hands and feet.  
  
"God help me---Nick."  
  
My tears fall as I see my lover's agony.  
  
"God can't help you," says Knives. He and Legato sit at the foot of Vash the Stampede's cross with Silvia and the outlaw's red coat in his hands.  
  
"Roll the dice, Legato," he said.  
  
"Snake eyes, you lose." Knives smiles at me and when the spike pierces my flesh, I scream...  
  
...to be continued.. 


	42. An Ill Wind

An Ill Wind  
  
I woke with a sharp intake of breath, my heart pounding and found Nick as agitated as I was, both of us breathing hard as if we'd just run a race.  
  
"Nightmare?" he asked me.  
  
I nodded.  
  
A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows of the cabin and startled us both. I got out of bed to look outside. It was dark but I could see thick clouds of dust roiling . Nick came to stand by me.  
  
"It must be the forward edge of the storm," he said. "Typhoon Jacqueline."  
  
He went over to his suit jacket pulled out two cigarettes, lit them up and handed me one.  
  
"What was the nightmare about?" he asked me as he took a puff.  
  
"We died," I said.  
  
He exhaled a stream of smoke, put his arm around my shoulder, gave it a squeeze and said, "It was just a dream."  
  
I had a sudden recollection of him nailed to the cross that agonized me and I racked my mind to find a change of subject.  
  
"Who was that girl I saw you with by the satellite station?"  
  
"You saw me there?"  
  
I shrugged, "Just doing my job."  
  
He gave me a searching look as he took another drag from his cigarette.  
  
He looked nervous.  
  
"What is it, Nick?"  
  
"Did you ever fall in love with a woman, Midvalley?"  
  
"I've known a lot of women and had sex with quite a few but no, I never fell in love with one."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
It was my turn to take a drag and I answered him thoughtfully, "I'm not sure why. Maybe being brought up in a whore house, I didn't associate sex with love--just a way for a woman to earn a living, and for pleasure. I've mostly been afraid to get close to anyone, afraid if I did and then if they left me..it would be like when my mother died."  
  
"I know what you mean," he said very softly. "I remember my feelings about my mother even if I can't remember her name."  
  
Then he seemed embarrassed.  
  
"I wanted to tell you something before...but.."  
  
"It's the tall insurance girl with the beautiful hair," I said with a faint grin.  
  
"She and I..well, we.."  
  
I felt through the link and found the jumble of feelings that he had for the woman named..Millie...I smiled. I might have been more jealous, but he had been so forgiving of me, that I could find nothing to condemn in his seeking comfort in the arms of the woman.  
  
Nick blushed but seemed tongue-tied.  
  
"Women are a mystery. They represent the possibility of new life to us," I said. "I suspect you were drawn to her after all the executions you carried out. "  
  
Nick nodded but his voice was ragged when he said, "You're not upset with me because of it?"  
  
"I'd be a lot more concerned if you'd stumbled into the arms of Vash the Stampede."  
  
Nick snorted.  
  
"Vash and me, lovers? That's a good one," he said as he shook his head. "The other insurance girl, Meryl, well, I think she's in love with him...To tell you the truth, I think he's sweet on her too, but he pushes her away. He doesn't want her to get too close to him. He's afraid she'll get hurt."  
  
I pulled back from him.  
  
"What's the matter, Midvalley?"  
  
"You shouldn't be telling me this, Nick. Knives and Legato might find a way to use this against you and I can't keep your secrets if they want to dig them out."  
  
"I've got no secrets really, Middie. Vash is Vash. He reminds me of the kids at the orphanage. He's like a pesky younger brother that I'm stuck babysitting."  
  
"Except that he destroyed the cities of July and Augusta and bored a hole in the fifth moon..."  
  
"Well, there is that," Nick said with a sigh.  
  
"Tell me about Millie. Are things getting serious between you two?"  
  
"We haven't really known each other long," he said and blushed again.  
  
"What is it, Nick?"  
  
"I wasn't going to tell you..."  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
"This is going to sound pathetic," he said, "but I actually practiced lying in front of the mirror."  
  
I burst out laughing and had to hold on to my stomach I was so tickled by the admission.  
  
"God, that's funny," I finally managed to wheeze.  
  
Nick looked peeved.  
  
"I was honest enough to tell you and this is your reaction?"  
  
"I'm sorry for laughing," I said and lost it again, "but.." I finally managed to catch my breath enough to gasp out," I did the same thing!"  
  
He looked at me with dawning comprehension and ended up chuckling along with me.  
  
"But you didn't lie to me, Midvalley."  
  
"Neither did you, Nick."  
  
I reached out to stroke his cheek.  
  
"What a pair we are," I said fondly, with a shake of my head, "You missed a few whiskers. Was it hard to look yourself in the eye while you practiced your lies? It was for me."  
  
"It wasn't really that," he said slowly and slid his hand along my jaw. "I was just in a hurry to be with you.."  
  
"Ah," I sighed as his touch gave me goosebumps and aroused me, "but I'm glad you told me."  
  
"Do you blame me?" he asked with a serious look.  
  
"Never," I whispered and sealed his mouth with a kiss.  
  
He responded passionately.  
  
Whatever he felt for Millie, it was nothing like what he felt for me.  
  
We went back to bed, made love again and drifted into dreamless sleep afterward, but both woke when a strong gust of wind flung grit at the cabin windows.  
  
"What time is it?" he asked me.  
  
"A couple of hours before first sunrise."  
  
The winds blew harder. The way the windows shook, I thought they might break any minute.  
  
"I think I should leave soon," I said. "I ought to get an early start.."  
  
He reached out to me and pulled me close.  
  
"I thought you were free until noon."  
  
"I'm not quite sure what Legato's plans for me are today."  
  
"Don't go, yet. Stay with me a while, Midvalley" he pleaded. When he kissed me, I couldn't have left him if my life depended on it. . Towards dawn, the typhoon seemed to be getting stronger. I heard the distant sound of breaking glass and got out of bed to look outside. The visibility was poor, but I made out a distant light obscured by dust clouds.  
  
"It must have been the windows in another cabin," I said and wondered if the wind would smash ours in next. The intensity of the storm was making sleep impossible.  
  
''It's nearly dawn. I really should go now," I said.  
  
"Let's have breakfast together at least," said Nick. I liked that he hated for me to leave.  
  
"I don't think I have time for breakfast but the dust storm is so bad, I want to give you a ride back into town."  
  
As I drove back to town, curiosity made me ask Nick, "The humanoid typhoon, what's he like?"  
  
"I've told you before, that he's trouble, and he is, but he makes me wonder if there isn't more to life than just survival. I get the feeling when I'm around him for any length of time, that I fall short as a human being and that I've got a lifetime of the wrong choices behind me."  
  
"I get the same feeling from Knives," I said. "It's funny. Knives treats us like animals, and I suppose compared to him we are. His brother Vash seems to expect more of us, as if we could become angels through an act of will and sacrifice our lives for an Eden that's only a pretty dream.  
  
Knives or Vash--they're different faces of the same coin. Knives rids the planet of humans a little at a time while Vash the Stampede ruins cities in minutes and thousands die. Knives makes no bones about his distaste for humanity. Vash the Stampede seems to have the best of intentions, but I don't see a lot of difference in the outcome of their actions. Either way, I can see us dying.  
  
"Don't say that, Midvalley. You act like you've given up hope already."  
  
I had to stop the car for a minute, because the visibility was zero. I couldn't see the road to drive on it.  
  
"The brothers are more different than I think you realize. You have a lot more in common with Vash the Stampede than you know," Nick went on. "It may be your job to work for Knives, but I know you don't enjoy killing, Midvalley. You love music."  
  
"I think we've had this conversation before, Nick. We kill to survive, but not for pleasure. I know you don't like killing either, but what else can we do?"  
  
He looked so troubled, I wanted to ease his conscience if I could, but Nick's voice held pain as he said, "I've done more than my share. When you had the chance, you chose to take fewer assignments. I took on more...It...changed me. You've changed me. He's changed me. I don't know how much longer I can keep on living this way. He believes that the killing won't stop until someone stops killing.  
  
A silence fell between us.  
  
"That kind of thinking will get you killed," I said finally.  
  
"Maybe," he said with a deep sigh and then stared out the car window for a long moment, and turned back to look at me.  
  
"But sometimes I think," he said as he lit a cigarette, "well I guess it's more of a dream, really, that some day the killing will stop and I could just settle down at the orphanage. If the parents stopped getting murdered there wouldn't be so many orphans. It wouldn't be so hard to find homes for the children.  
  
And in my dream, you and I are together. Sometimes at the orphanage. Sometimes on the road, but we're always together and we're happy. I had an image of you giving music lessons to the children. I like to think of you passing on your love of music to another generation. You were composing music and making more recordings in the studio. I suppose the dream sounds stupid and naïve but it's what I'd wish for us if things were different."  
  
That was a daydream I had allowed myself only when I was drunk, but now hearing him give voice to it, I felt regret. It was the deepest wish of my heart and I knew I would never get it, but I smiled at him anyway.  
  
"There is so much beautiful music in you, Midvalley," he said.  
  
I was touched by what he said and realized the deepest truth in me was what I found when I emptied myself. Love and music should have been my whole life. A feeling of regret pierced me and I fell into reverie wishing for what would never be. Nick was still speaking and I listened to him.  
  
"I'm beginning to see that it might be true," he said. "The killing will never stop until someone stops killing."  
  
"I don't know that I can stop," I replied. "Like you said last night, Nick, It's not a perfect world, but it's good enough for me if it has you in it. I don't want to lose you."  
  
"I don't want to lose you either."  
  
What were the odds of either of us making it out alive? It was too depressing to contemplate, so I brushed the thought aside and made myself believe what I said next.  
  
"We'll both make it through this okay," I said. "I'll bet you a million double dollars that in a week's time we'll be laughing about this over drinks."  
  
I felt his love and the stirring of hope in him that we just might make it through.  
  
When the buffeting gusts of the typhoon eased, the air cleared and I saw the satellite tower not far away. I parked close to the wire office.  
  
"This is as good a place as any I guess," said Nick and he opened the car door and got out.  
  
I walked around the vehicle and gave him a hug while the strong breezes whipped at my suit jacket.  
  
"All right, then. I guess this is good-bye, Nick." I practically had to shout it, the noise of the storm was so loud.  
  
I leaned in to give a him a last quick kiss.  
  
"No, Midvalley, not like that," he said and gave me a deep kiss that seared me to the core. Then he released me and walked away. While I stood with my fingers on my lips, Nick turned and yelled out something, but the wind tore his words away.  
  
"I love you, too," I shouted, but the wind blew my words back to me and dried my tears before they fell.  
  
I went to the wire office to check for messages and found one from Legato.  
  
"Meet me in Demethri this afternoon," I read. "Master Knives requires our presence."  
  
I hated to think what else Knives might require, but I wasn't foolhardy enough to ignore a command performance.  
  
I refueled my car and set out despite the intensity of the storm. Once I got thirty iles out of New Oregon, the wind eased somewhat. I reached out with my link to see if I could still touch Nick and was relieved that I could.  
  
When Legato met me in Demethri some hours later, he took one look at me and said, "You must have been with the priest...He's done something to you. I can't quite."  
  
He didn't finish the sentence but looked disquieted, then shrugged.  
  
"It makes no difference," he said. "We do what we do...It's probably better this way," he said and placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me through an aperture in the hull of a fallen spacecraft. I was very curious when we entered the vast enclosure. It was honeycombed with tunnels.  
  
"Our master is nearby," he said. "He weakened himself by transporting Grey, Hoppered and Leonof's puppets to the Sky City, so he will need my healing.."  
  
He hesitated, then said..."and possibly yours."  
  
The thought of Knives needing my healing made me nauseous, especially in contrast with how I'd spent my night. Still, I found that the recollection of the time I spent with Nick elevated my mood considerably. Maybe Knives wouldn't want me after all, I thought, and rather than dwell on the possibility, I fastened on the topic of Leonof to distract myself.  
  
"I don't think much of Leonof's chances," I commented. "In my opinion, he failed on his last attempt. I'm surprised that Knives didn't have him killed immediately. Has he grown more lenient or has he only run out of pets to do his dirty work? If Leonof was Dominique, he'd be dead now. I think he will fail again---"  
  
"What makes you think so, some inside knowledge about Vash the Stampede?" Legato asked with a speculative air.  
  
When I didn't respond he went on, "If Leonof fails, he will be executed, but right now his talents are pivotal on the impact of the present mission. Vash the Stampede has been flushed from his hiding place. Now that he is on the move again, he has shaken things up. The Gung-Ho Guns are showing signs of instability--Caine, Hoppered, Zazie the Beast, even the steadiest like Leonof, Chapel the Evergreen, yes, even you..Time is running out., but as long as I can serve my master, I will. I was promised my revenge-- eternal pain and suffering for Vash the Stampede."  
  
He took me to one of the honeycomb cells of the ship and when the door slid slowly open, I saw Knives floating in the healing bath of a stasis chamber, his body submerged in healing oils from the neck down. I looked around me in awe. The walls of the place from floor to the cavernous ceiling were lined with energy plants held in stasis cases as far as the eye could see.  
  
"Play something melancholy, Hornfreak," Knives called out to me in an almost jovial tone. "A couple of my siblings are going to die today."  
  
I reacted visibly fearing for my lover's life. If Vash the Stampede died, then surely Nick would die as well. Knives picked up on my discomfort.  
  
"Not that sibling," Knives corrected me. " Surely you don't think that my brother could be killed so easily. I certainly don't expect him to die, but with four agents aboard that ship, I am counting on a dramatic increase in the amount he suffers. No, the plants that die will be like these in here," he said with an expansive gesture that encompassed the array of dormant plants.  
  
"They will sacrifice their lives so that the last Seeds ship will fall and with any luck, just about every human aboard it will die."  
  
I brought Silvia's reed to my lips and began to play. The thought that Nick would soon be on that ship putting his life in danger made the music as melancholy as requested.  
  
As I emptied myself and let the music play itself through me, I found that Nick's emotions flowed in and the music I made reflected his feelings. The change in how I linked to Silvia puzzled me, but I found I liked it. Still, I was able to hear with part of my mind, the conversation that went on between Knives and Legato. It surprised me that they were not able to block my connection with Nick as they had before.  
  
"Leonof informed me that Wolfwood appears to be traveling with Vash the Stampede and that the priest appears to be protecting him. Has he joined forces with him do you think, my master?" asked Legato.  
  
"It was in the scenario and in the Hornfreak's reports. What the priest does or does not do is really no concern of yours, Legato. Run the Gung-Ho Guns as you choose, but if I recall correctly, the priest is under my orders, not yours. His job is to protect my brother and guide him to me and in exchange for his services, I have offered him a deal for certain advantages. Of course my strategy may change soon," Knives said with a pointed look at me. His stare made me anxious.  
  
He raised his head to consider me for some moments as if examining a strange species of insect.  
  
"But are you sure he is loyal, Master?" Legato asked him.  
  
"He would have to be. There is a substantial amount of money involved, plus the safety of the orphans and one other consideration."  
  
He eyed me with contempt and dismissed me.  
  
"I've had enough of your playing for the moment, Hornfreak. Wait outside for a while. I'll call you if I want you. "  
  
" As I have teleported Grey Nine-Lives to the Seeds ship, I shall require your services again," I heard him say to Legato.  
  
"Yes, Master," Legato replied.  
  
To empty my mind and keep my nerves under control, I continued to play and the music grew more wild and discordant. I felt Nick's emotions more strongly than ever. Why was the music so wild? My heart was pumping. I felt a rush of adrenaline. I was feeling what he felt. He was in combat.heavy combat. And Nick was pressed to his limits I could tell. I sensed his grim determination. The battle was hard-fought. Then I felt a sharp slicing pain in the muscle above my right knee...pain so intense it sent me to my knees. Then the pain seemed to stop and I lost all sense of him and panicked. Was he dead!?  
  
I flooded the link with healing power and felt him restored again, the pain gone. My heart thundered in my chest as the battle raged on. I felt him sinking into despair, a glimmer of hope, and then finally with my heart still racing, relief. Thank God, he'd made it through the battle alive.  
  
Then I felt the familiar headache and nausea that followed a healing session. It was all I could do to keep from collapsing completely. I had to sit down on the floor until the faintness passed.  
  
Some time later, the door of Knives's chamber rolled back slowly and Legato emerged walking stiffly. His features were composed but I knew he was in pain. He looked subdued.  
  
"My master wants you," he said.  
  
I entered the chamber with a feeling of barely controlled panic.  
  
Knives was out of the healing tank, cloaked in a sheet. Whatever Legato did seemed to have restored Knives completely and my anxiety eased. If he didn't need my healing, what did he want?  
  
He could read my mind again.  
  
"You were right, Hornfreak, I am completely restored, but since I want to be at my best when I meet my brother, it couldn't hurt to have a little power in reserve, so I shall require some of your healing today."  
  
I was surprised that he couldn't sense my utter weakness. My healing power was drained.  
  
Then he gave me an odd look and raised an eyebrow and said, "You were with the priest again."  
  
He came closer and I felt him touch my mind with his.  
  
He gave a grunt of disgust.  
  
"I see. There's nothing left. You gave it all to save your priest."  
  
He looked at me coolly.  
  
"You have displeased me, Hornfreak. You may have outlived your usefulness."  
  
He flicked his fingers and a dark orb appeared in the palm of his hand. He considered the crackling energy globe for a minute considering, then let it disappear.  
  
"On second thought, it's a waste of my resources. Perhaps it's as well that the priest lives. No matter. I summoned another to serve me. Leave me now. I will deal with your little show of independence later."  
  
I felt a sensation like strong rough hands shoving me out of the room.  
  
"Legato will give you your instructions."  
  
I left the room with a feeling of relief and heard the door close after me.  
  
I began to walk down the corridor to the exit but stopped when I saw a familiar figure walking in my direction. When we met, we embraced.  
  
"Did your friend find you?" my father asked.  
  
"Yes, and thanks for getting my letter to him. I thought you might get into trouble for helping. Is that why you're here? If it is, I'm worried about you. Knives is in a poor mood and I didn't help it any."  
  
"I doubt it's about that. It's about healing, I think."  
  
"He's used you before," I said as the realization sank in.  
  
Hot Lips nodded.  
  
"He almost killed me last time," I said.  
  
"Don't worry about me, son. I survived what he dished out before, then again, if he kills me, well, I'm just that much closer to being with your mother again."  
  
I was truly worried for my father now.  
  
"How can you say that? How could you hope to find her again even if you do believe?" I asked.  
  
"Ease your mind, Midvalley. I've given it a lot of thought. I even had a dream about it. In the dream, I died and I was a lost soul wandering. I asked everybody I met if they knew where she was, but they couldn't see me or hear me to answer. I couldn't find her. I finally looked down and saw that I still had my horn. I was so sad I closed my eyes and started to play it. The tune that came out of the horn made me think of her and I got the strongest feeling of where she was. I linked to her and kept on playing and when I finally opened my eyes, your mother was standing right there in front of me just as beautiful as I remembered.  
  
You might think I'm crazy for believing in a dream like that, but I know when I die, I'll find that feeling in my heart or in my soul and I will be with her again."  
  
I heard the door of Knives' chamber begin to grind open.  
  
"He wants me," said Hot Lips and turned to go.  
  
"What's the piece of music you hear when you find her in your dreams?" I asked.  
  
He smiled, and gave me one last hug.  
  
"Silvia's Tune," he said softly and walked into the chamber.  
  
As I made my way back up the hallway, I thought of what my father said.  
  
"Sentimental fool," I said to myself, but his dream gave me a feeling of hope.  
  
I thought of the serenade I had played the night before and reached out with my mind for my Nick through the link.  
  
He was weary and depressed.  
  
With a heavy weight on my heart as I thought of my lover, I went in search of Legato.  
  
I found him in a small cubicle close to where we had come into the crashed ship. It must have been an infirmary at one time.  
  
He was stiff and sore. He sensed at once my healing power was at low ebb.  
  
"Master must have been angry."  
  
I shrugged.  
  
I helped him off with his coat and shirt. I cleaned his wounds with antiseptic that I found and anointed the worst of his lacerations with a healing salve.  
  
When Legato was dressed again, we went outside. I looked up and saw a silver speck in the sky that grew larger every second I watched.  
  
"What's that bright light, Legato?"  
  
"It's the ship, Midvalley, Sky City, the Seeds ship. It was too distant an object to be seen very clearly. Some have called it the daystar. It is falling now and will land close to the city of New Oregon. Leonof came so close to succeeding..." His voice was full of regret.  
  
"The mission has not been a complete success, but Vash the Stampede has suffered greatly I know," he said as he stroked the skull attached to his left arm. "So many of his friends and family have just died. He is in considerable pain right now."  
  
Legato's voice quivered with intense sadness. His empathy was picking up Vash's emotions. Legato wept openly and smiled. His smile chilled me.  
  
To be continued... 


	43. A Small Sacrifice

A Small Sacrifice  
  
It was unusual for Legato to show as much emotion as he had and it wasn't long before he composed himself and resumed his slightly aloof manner. I had been unable to give him much in the way of healing and I knew that he needed to rest to restore his strength, but mindful of his duty to his master, he began to speak.  
  
"Vash the Stampede has been shattered by the events of the day. He is paying for his arrogance with pain now, I have no doubt that he will follow the trail that we have charted for him this time."  
  
"A great deal of preparation has gone into the next act of our drama. The first scene will play out near Keybas. Zazie the Beast has been in place for weeks and will have the starring role. We must join him soon to oversee a crisis of conscience in Vash the Stampede.  
  
Caine will accompany us. The sniper has become drunk and unreliable since Ned Pitts died, a rather pathetic figure really, but Master Knives has a small part for Caine to play and I doubt the poor creature would make it there without some assistance."  
  
Legato halted, closed his eyes and sighed deeply. I knew he was in considerable pain from the treatment he received from Knives.  
  
I offered my arm for support. He took it and we walked slowly around the structure of the ruined seeds ship.  
  
We finally reached Legato's armored car. The robot who usually drove it sat inert and lifeless in the driver's seat like a puppet whose wires had been cut. When Leonof died, all the puppets he controlled stopped functioning.  
  
"What a pity," said Legato. "Leonof , despite his failure, was a puppetmaster without peer. "  
  
I pulled the robot out of the vehicle and set it on the ground.  
  
"I'll drive," I volunteered.  
  
"Thank you, Midvalley. I need to rest."  
  
Legato stepped into the vehicle, settled himself and slept almost all the way to LR.  
  
When we arrived, Legato said, "You look exhausted, Midvalley. Get some sleep while I check for news at the wire office."  
  
I woke when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Legato.  
  
"A contact in New Oregon informed me that hundreds of Vash the Stampede's friends died in Sky City and they are still burying the corpses as we speak. He won't be traveling for a while, so we can get a hotel room and rest here for tonight."  
  
I was tired from the ordeal of the previous day and from the vibration of the vehicle and the dust from the road. I fell into bed exhausted with only the briefest recollection that only twenty-four hours ago, I had been locked safe in my lover's arms. It hardly seemed possible. It felt like years.  
  
I was relieved that Legato made no effort at seduction. I think all his energy was focussed on self-healing. I was worn thin.  
  
Next morning, Legato woke me. He seemed refreshed.  
  
After I cleaned up, he gave me a mission.  
  
"Find Caine," he said. "Bring the sniper back with you as soon as possible, then we will regroup and make further plans."  
  
It was still fairly early when I walked down the stairs of the Ellar Hotel. The birds were singing as I stepped along the boardwalk and entered the Swallow Tavern, a small quiet place I thought might appeal to the shy sniper, but Caine wasn't there though I had heard that she practically lived in barrooms now. There was one other saloon on the main drag, called the Dij Bar. I headed up the wide sandy street, pushed through the batwing doors of the place and scanned the tables and booths. It was still early so the place wasn't crowded. Only a diehard drunk would start this early, which is why I thought I had a good chance of finding Caine here.  
  
When I didn't see the sniper, I described Caine to the bartender.  
  
"The one I'm looking for is tall, slender and wears a mask and a long leather jacket. Drinks a lot."  
  
"Hmm. Drinks a lot," mused the bartender. "Could be almost anyone. Lots of folks are still wearing masks because of the dust storm. Sorry it's not ringing a bell, but if you don't see your friend here, try the rest room. I get drunks who fall asleep on the commode from time to time. I keep telling them it's not a hotel room, but when they're in that rough shape, they're not too good at listening."  
  
Since I had to take a leak, I pushed into the men's room, stepped up to a urinal, unfastened my pants and did my business. I relaxed with a sigh as my bladder emptied. I swiveled my head when I heard the door of the stall behind me swing open and saw Caine lurch across the floor and stand swaying in front of the urinal just two spaces down from mine.  
  
Caine was so drunk that I don't think that my presence made the slightest impact. After all, she was so drunk, she'd entered the wrong restroom. I was more than a little surprised when I heard Caine's stream of urine start and shocked when my eyes drifted to the right and I got a glimpse of the small but serviceable cock in the sniper's hand. I'll admit I stared, at first from shock, and then, because a lot of the urine was misdirected. It's a pitiful thing when a sniper of Caine's talent couldn't get piss in the pisser while standing right in front of it.  
  
"Shit, Caine," was all I could think of to say. I'd thought he was a woman and here was evidence to the contrary. Dominique had been messing with my mind.  
  
But I'd seen his breasts---no, her breasts, I told myself.  
  
A man and a woman? I mumbled to myself. Is that why she's so shy? I wondered.  
  
I puzzled over it for a moment as I fastened my fly. Caine sagged up against the wall and slid slowly down to the floor. I shook her shoulder. He was out cold. It was frustrating to know how to think about her, him. Finally since I'd found Caine in the men's room, and seen his cock, I decided that he considered himself a man. I took Caine by the wrists, pulled him up to a standing position, then wrapped my arms around his shoulders and headed through the door and into the saloon.  
  
Caine seemed to regain consciousness, but was still so drunk all he could do was shuffle clumsily across the floor. I guided his staggering steps out through the batwing doors and out onto the street. I half-carried him back to the armored car, manhandled him into the vehicle and propelled him to an empty sleeping berth.  
  
Legato returned while I was getting Caine settled in.  
  
"Good work, Midvalley. I just got some new information about Keybas. It seems that the citizens have gotten frightened because of the disappearances I arranged in the neighboring towns, so they have walled in their city and won't let strangers in.  
  
There may not be any other cities on the way where we can stock up on food, water and ammunition, so we shall need to lay in adequate provisions before we leave.  
  
Purchase what you think we will need in the way of food, and water. If you could find some sweets, some cheesecake would be especially nice."  
  
I'm not sure if our drunken colleague was thoughtful enough to stock up on ammunition for the rifle, so I would appreciate it if you could buy a couple of boxes of .50 caliber rounds for it.  
  
"I didn't see his rifle," I said.  
  
"Caine carries the rifle in pieces, concealed in the leather coat," Legato informed me.  
  
Then he continued, "We may find ourselves in a few close combat situations in Keybas. I know you rarely use the special modifications on your saxophone that allow it to fire bullets---  
  
"I hate using her that way!" I protested. "The recoil makes it almost impossible for Silvia to hold pitch afterwards without major readjustment. She sounds so flat. I hate that."  
  
"I'm aware. Still it might be a good idea to clean and oil the mechanism and buy some ammunition, just to be on the safe side."  
  
"Oh, all right," I agreed.  
  
"I'm not sure how long the errands will take you, but if we leave in an hour or so, it will give us ample time to get to Keybas. We need to reconnoiter the town, rendezvous with Zazie the Beast to share intelligence, and be in place before Vash the Stampede and his party arrive.  
  
While you do the errands, I must write another report for Knives. He wanted an assessment of Caine's condition."  
  
"Caine was so drunk, he couldn't hit the urinal," I said and left.  
  
I had to ask twice before I finally found a gun shop on a side street parallel to the main drag. I bought 2 boxes of .50 caliber cartridges for Caine's rifle. I also bought some .22 caliber ammunition for Silvia. Her firing mechanism is concealed in a metal sleeve just between the bow and the bell.  
  
When I was through at the gun shop, I bought several containers of water and several sandwiches. The only sweet shop I found open was the Homy Donut shop. I bought a dozen donuts, some coffee, cream and sugar and returned to the vehicle. Legato was sitting up reviewing some documents.  
  
"What did you bring in the way of sweets?" he asked me.  
  
I set the box of donuts down on the table.  
  
"No cheesecake?" he inquired, disappointed.  
  
"No."  
  
Then he was rifling through the contents.  
  
"Mmmm, cream-filled," he said as he held one of the chocolate Bismarck's in his hand and bit into it. I set down the coffees. Did you get lots of cream and sugar?" he asked.  
  
"Lots," I said.  
  
"Ammunition?"  
  
"Two boxes--50 rounds each for Caine's rifle. I can get more if we need it."  
  
"I'm sure that will be adequate for our purposes. I wish there had been cheesecake though," he said as looked for a second donut. Still you got the chocolate donuts with sprinkles, too. I like those."  
  
"I got a half dozen of those and there's a few cheese danish in there too."  
  
"Cheese danish? That's almost as good as cheesecake. Well, then if you're rested, we should proceed to Keybas."  
  
"I'm okay," I said, so I left him and Caine in the interior of the vehicle, took a sandwich and a canteen of water into the driver's seat and headed the vehicle north.  
  
The trip to Keybas took just under six hours .  
  
When we arrived on the outskirts, Chapel the Evergreen was waiting for us and Caine the Longshot seemed to have shaken off the effects of the alcohol. The four of us reconnoitered the city and found it was locked up tight. The citizens may have thought they were secure, but I was well aware that its walls would be no deterrent to Legato's mind control.  
  
"I will go into the city with Chapel the Evergreen," said Legato. "In the meantime, I'd like you and Caine to make contact with Zazie the Beast just to make sure he is ready to play his part."  
  
Legato told me that Zazie had taken refuge with other orphans in a dwelling just a stone's throw from the south gate. He was using the cover story of being an orphan from Carcassus.  
  
It didn't take long to find the place, a long low building made of mud and set into the base of a sandstone outcropping.  
  
Caine and I didn't approach the orphans directly. I knew that the children would be extremely suspicious of strangers.  
  
I borrowed an extra sniper scope from Caine and tried to find Zazie with it. I saw several children, some sitting solitary and others engaged in various pursuits. One of the liveliest groups was engaged in a game of tag. I thought I'd have better luck finding Zazie among the solitary, but I did not recognize him.  
  
I searched the faces of those playing tag and thought that if Zazie was undercover, he was doing a fine job of it. Eventually I spotted him wearing a blanket poncho and a big grin on his face. He had just dodged a pursuer and I could hear his happy laughter from where I lay observing. He certainly didn't act like a hardened cold-blooded killer. You'd never guess that he was anything other than a happy-go-lucky kid.  
  
I wondered if he was acting. I got the impression he wasn't and wondered if this was what Zazie was like when the pressure of the job was off. I actually felt sorry for what the kid would be going through soon, but I set aside these thoughts and got ready to signal him. It was time for the rendezvous.  
  
I used Silvia's polished surface to reflect sunlight into Zazie's eyes. He shook his head angrily but marked the location of the flashing light. Some quarter hour later, he joined Caine and me.  
  
He'd been rude to me at the academy and time on his own hadn't improved his manners any. He was nothing like the kid I'd seen running happily minutes before, and any sympathy that I'd had for him while I watched him playing vanished as soon as he opened his mouth.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the Whorefreak," he addressed me in an insolent tone.  
  
"Zazie," I acknowledged him evenly.  
  
"Why didn't Legato come in person for the briefing?"  
  
"I couldn't say, Zazie. He asked me to do it."  
  
"I know why. I heard a lot about you, Whorefreak. It's just like when you got Mentor of the Year at the academy. It's not who you know, it's who you fuck. I heard you're spreading your cheeks for Legato and Knives now. I guess a whore is always looking for a better pimp. And you're Legato's right hand man. Is that the one you use to jerk him off with?"  
  
I slapped him across the cheek with my right hand. He had his pistol out from under his poncho with the hammer cocked in less time than I thought possible. He had gotten faster.  
  
"I'm gonna fucking kill you, Whorefreak," he said, his voice eager with anticipation.  
  
"Just try," said a quiet voice.  
  
The muzzle of Caine's rifle was pointed at Zazie's heart.  
  
"Stow it, brat," said the sniper.  
  
The boy flushed scarlet and holstered the pistol.  
  
Caine kept the rifle trained on Zazie.  
  
"Might as well get back to business..Has the scenario been explained to you?" I asked him.  
  
"Knives sent me an eyes only," Zazie replied. "He wants me to kill his brother. I've been practicing. You just saw how fast I am. Vash the Stampede doesn't stand a chance against me. And when he's dead I'm ready for a rematch with your boyfriend. Caine just saved your bacon now, but your lap-pal, Wolfwood won't be so lucky. He killed Rai-dei in cold blood, and it's time for some payback."  
  
"Really?"  
  
I hadn't known that Nick killed Rai-dei, but I realized that he if he felt the samurai posed a threat to Vash the Stampede, he would not have hesitated to eliminate him. But what really surprised me was that Zazie had received orders from Knives to kill Vash.  
  
Frankly, I was concerned. I was beginning to wonder if Knives hadn't given a different scenario to everyone, hiding his intentions. I was sure Knives wanted his brother alive. Why did he tell Zazie to kill him? That was a question I couldn't quite answer. I would need to mention it to Legato, but I put it aside for the moment and said, "Vash the Stampede is expected to arrive this afternoon in Keybas. Caine will flash the light like I did and that's your cue to haul ass so you can meet him outside the gates and lead him to the orphanage."  
  
"I know what I'm doing," said Zazie in a petulant voice.  
  
"Don't get cocky," I advised him. "Leonof's dead and he was no fool."  
  
"Are you saying I am?"  
  
I exhaled slowly and held my temper.  
  
"Grey and Hoppered are dead, too."  
  
Zazie looked confused.  
  
"What's that got to do with me?"  
  
"Knives isn't cutting any slack," I explained.  
  
"I guess that means you and your loser boyfriend will be dead soon."  
  
"I'm just trying to warn you. Don't fuck up."  
  
"I'll hold my end up. Just handle yours," said Zazie. "Are we done yet?"  
  
"I guess so."  
  
The small figure left with one last dirty look for Caine who still had the rifle pointed at his chest.  
  
"Thanks," I said to the sniper.  
  
Caine inclined his head fractionally in response.  
  
"Let's go back.," I said.  
  
Chapel the Evergreen was with Legato when we arrived.  
  
"Now that you're back, we can discuss the plan of attack on the city," said the Evergreen.  
  
"Caine, you should go set up now," said the Evergreen. "You can signal us and also Zazie, when Vash the Stampede's party arrives and of course tonight, you'll be responsible for the guards on the palisades.  
  
Caine nodded and headed off on foot towards a sandstone butte an ile or so away.  
  
It didn't take long to coordinate the rest of our plans.  
  
Once Caine and Legato had breached the walls of the city, the Evergreen and I would do what we did best. Chapel the Evergreen went out to join Caine for a while.  
  
"I'll take your briefing about Zazie the Beast now" Legato remarked.  
  
I raised my concerns about Zazie's mission.  
  
"You were right to tell me about the discrepancy in the scenarios, but Master Knives had his own special reasons for setting it up this way," Legato demurred. "He demands a certain level of authenticity in the performances and believes that Zazie's acting will be more convincing if he believes that Knives wants Vash dead."  
  
I was still troubled, but it wasn't long before we saw the signal flash from Caine, and it was a mere ten minutes before Vash the Stampede's party showed up in a convertible with Nick in the driver's seat.  
  
Legato and I watched the newcomers ask for admittance to the city. They were rudely refused entrance. I knew from watching him how much that pissed Nick off and how unwilling to take no for an answer he was. But Vash the Stampede was ready to leave and that's when he made Zazie's acquaintance.  
  
Zazie stole a canteen and allowed himself to get caught. He looked pitiful and I'm sure that Vash the Stampede was sorry for him. I'd seen the soft spot he had for kids in trouble. I think Nick recognized Zazie. He took his cue anyway, and suggested that they follow the boy, to see where he went. Nick was probably telling Vash that there were more orphans just like him in the vicinity.  
  
I gathered some water and some more sandwiches from the armored car. I thought we might be observing a while and Legato followed me to the vantage point I'd found that morning.  
  
Not long after we were in place, Vash the Stampede and Nick showed up at the orphan's hideaway with the two insurance girls in tow. At first the suspicious children pelted the newcomers with flying objects. But when the four adults brought back enough food for a feast, the hungry orphans welcomed them with open arms.  
  
Nick never could stand to see a hungry child and I felt his satisfaction through the link when the empty bellies were full again. God, it was good to see him again, if only from a distance. My heart expanded with warm feelings.  
  
I saw how the group of adults interacted with the children. They wanted to help the children and they did. I watched Nick and Vash the Stampede show the boys how to build a cook fire.  
  
The insurance girls helped the children with sweeping, mending clothes and cooking. They helped to turn the jump rope and referee games of soccer.  
  
I noticed how easy the relationship between Nick and Millie was. I watched Vash the Stampede with his small insurance girl. She was sometimes humorous with him, sometimes serious and challenging, but she could hardly keep her eyes off him.  
  
I noticed that he looked at her a lot and I wondered if it was as the way Nick had told me, that they were sweet on each other. I thought it was possible, but he seemed restrained. I think he didn't want to see her get hurt. He was a dangerous man to know. The cemetery in New Oregon was now filled with the bodies of former friends of his. I was impressed by the courage of the insurance girls.  
  
I saw that Nick had strong feelings of affection for Millie. There was a genuineness in her interchanges, an artless calm and sweetness. I felt as I watched her that I was seeing a truly good person. I had met women like her before-- big, strong women made to feel embarrassed about their strength and size. Most, and Millie was no exception, reacted to the implied criticism with shyness and modesty. I sensed her heavy overcoat hid a voluptuous body. I could see Nick's attraction to her and was even a little smitten myself.  
  
It was sweet how the girls took a simple dinner and turned it into a party. Everyone seemed to be having fun, even Zazie.  
  
I turned to see Legato watching me.  
  
"We see things very differently, you and I," he said.  
  
His comment took me aback, but he made no further remark and went back to watching the activities of the group.  
  
Still disquieted, I offered Legato some refreshments and we ate. He seemed to entertain no malice towards me, and that was a relief anyway.  
  
That evening I sensed through the link that Nick wasn't happy with what he had to do next.  
  
When the party for the children was over and they were all bedded down for the night, Nick opened a bottle of liquor. It was the best way to damp down Vash's sixth sense for danger and it was our cue to get ready for combat. At five minutes of midnight the Evergreen met us at the armored car. At twelve o'clock sharp, the armed guards on the palisade fence of the walled city were all dead well before the faint residual sound waves from the gunshots drifted to my ears on the night wind. Caine still had the talent.  
  
Legato used his powers of mind to raise the latch of the gate and when it swung open, Chapel the Evergreen gunned down the city defenders while Silvia's voice sliced through bodies like cold steel. So many died before they even knew what hit them. The carnage went on for a while until Legato said, "Stop, that's enough for the moment. We'll leave half alive," he continued, "just as we did at Jeneora Rock and we will wait for the good citizens of the town to put two and two together."  
  
The next morning, Legato and I observed how the drama played out when we saw angry men from the town march on the small orphanage. They were certain that the strangers who had knocked at their gates the previous day were responsible for the fatalities. I watched with concern as the men peppered the children's dwelling with machinegun fire.  
  
I felt Nick's anger through the link and wondered if he would kill the townspeople for putting the children in harm's way. I'd seen him react that way in the past.  
  
This should be the moment when Vash opened fire with his handgun or machine gun to protect the children. But that wasn't what happened. I wasn't surprised when the Humanoid Typhoon walked out of the cabin with his arms held high, but I wasn't expecting it when Nick walked out just a few seconds after him.  
  
What the hell was he doing?! I'd never seen Nick willingly disarm himself and he couldn't defend Vash the Stampede without his weapons. He was taking a huge chance with his life!  
  
My mind raced with sudden questions. Could it be that he was just setting things up for Zazie? Or had he really started to believe what Vash the Stampede preached about non-violence?  
  
The men from Keybas had itchy trigger fingers and I thought to intervene. I was furious when one of the men smashed Nick in the face with a rifle butt.  
  
"Damn you to hell," I muttered and calculated the angle and velocity of the speed of sound as I brought Silvia's reed to my lip. The wind was too strong. I didn't want to hurt Nick, so I pressed the release that armed the sax gun and was just about to fire the bullets when Legato said, "Don't."  
  
I felt a near crippling pressure on my fingers when I tried to defy his order.  
  
"Let the scenario play out," he said. "Your friend is in no danger. Vash the Stampede couldn't bear to see him die, and you wouldn't want Silvia's voice to go flat..."  
  
I didn't trust his words and bridled over his interference as I watched anxiously to see what would happen next.  
  
Just then the ground erupted and a giant sandworm writhed hideously and raised its undulating head to look for prey. Every hair on my head rose. I could hear the screams of the children from where I stood..  
  
Legato seemed serene as if this were expected.  
  
"What's happening? I've never seen anything like those beasts!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Zazie is controlling the worms through the hive mind.'  
  
Nick and Vash the Stampede distracted the giant worms so that the Insurance girls could lead the children out of danger but soon the giant creatures were tearing up the streets in an effort to capture and devour their prey. Nick and Vash saved the lives of the townspeople who had been ready to kill them. When they pleaded for shelter for the children from the people of Keybas, the citizens surprised me by letting them in.  
  
Zazie pressed on with the attack. His control of the worms was masterful. Somehow they even managed to tunnel under the walls into the city. Nick chased after Millie and a frightened child. He had hoisted his cross punisher about to defend their lives at all cost against the saw-tooth lined maw of the giant creature, when the sandworm just stopped, like one of Leonof's puppets with the wires severed. All of the giant worms froze in place.  
  
I looked back to see what had happened with Zazie. Vash the Stampede was talking to him. Somehow he had broken the boy's ability to control the worms. Millie and Meryl came to join the outlaw. They were curious about the child.  
  
Zazie threw aside his poncho, drew out his pistol and shot the handgun from Vash the Stampede's grip. Oh, god, if Nick failed at his bodyguard task, I had no doubt that Knives would kill him. Zazie held the gun to Meryl's head. The Humanoid Typhoon flinched at that, but he didn't turn a hair when Zazie shot a button off his coat. He just kept talking softly to the boy. But soft talk didn't work with Zazie. The only thing that impressed Zazie was a fast gun. I think it was the only thing he really respected.  
  
But where was Nick?! He'd been on the roof protecting Millie. He was too far away to do his job and if he didn't..This was getting desperate.  
  
I heard Zazie shout at the blond outlaw.."Then take your ideals to your grave.." He was going to shoot him. I knew it.  
  
Worried for Nick again, I put my fingers on the keys that would trigger the bullets in my sax only to have Legato stop me again.  
  
"Let the scene play out between the Priest and the Beast," he said. "There's nothing for you to be alarmed about."  
  
I turned to look at him, heard a shot ring out and anxious for Nick, I looked back and everything I saw seemed to happen like a dream in slow motion.  
  
The bullet from the Cross Punisher lifted Zazie into the air and his child's body flew up and drifted, drifted, drifted, until he fell to the ground...lifeless.  
  
It hurt to see that small body.  
  
Zazie looked so pathetic lying there, like the child Molly in her coffin, surrounded by her toys.  
  
"Get up, Zazie!" I said.  
  
I knew he was dead.  
  
"Come on, get up."  
  
I didn't even like him.  
  
"Get up, Zazie," I begged him even though I knew he couldn't hear me.  
  
He was just so little.  
  
I couldn't help it when my tears began to fall.  
  
Millie took one horrified look at the body of the small boy and then her head swiveled slowly to see who had shot him. She saw Nick's hard look and the weapon still smoking. She looked at him with shock and hurt in her eyes. I felt Nick's heart crack while my own was breaking.  
  
"If I hadn't of shot him, it would have been you lying there dead," I heard him try to defend himself to Vash the Stampede. His voice was harsh and ragged with pain.  
  
When Vash the Stampede reproached him, Nick lashed out and struck him down.  
  
I felt my lover's hurt, frustration and anger as he walked away, burning with shame to feel those judging eyes fixed on his back. I felt the load of guilt on him grow heavier and heavier until the pain of it was crushing.  
  
I looked at Zazie's body lying so small, so cold, so still and whispered as I wept, " Whose child were you?"  
  
"Nobody's child," said Legato. "Just a receptacle for the hive mind. The hive never dies. It will find another host."  
  
His voice was calm and matter of fact with a hint of satisfaction.  
  
Vash the Stampede wept as his eyes followed Nick's retreating back.  
  
I looked at Legato through tear-stained eyes. I was wretched and he wore a smile of bliss.  
  
To be continued. 


	44. The Limits of Men and Angels

The Limits of Men and Angels

In the aftermath of the shooting that ended Zazie's life, it was Vash the Stampede who dug a grave, placed the body in it and covered it up with rocks and sand. I stood with Legato and watched from a hotel room that overlooked the main street of Keybas.

I observed the gunman through the window as he lashed a makeshift cross together, marked the grave with it, and stood beside it weeping. I'd never seen anyone shed so many tears for a murderer. He should have been celebrating that there was one less on the planet, I thought cynically. Not that I thought that I was any better---I knew I wasn't. Still I wondered if I died, would Vash be weeping just as melodramatically over me?

I laughed to myself with some bitterness at the thought, then wondered who would truly mourn my passing. Nick and Hot Lips were the only two who came to mind. 

It bothered me not knowing if my father was alive or dead, but the idea upset me so much that I didn't want to think about it. As for Nick, the emotion I felt through my empathic link to him was pain. I sighed.

The sound roused Legato though he could not pull his eyes away from his contemplation Vash the Stampede's distress.

"Perhaps an assignment would keep your mind off your troubles," he said.

Outside by Zazie's grave, the short insurance girl, tugged at the sleeve of Vash's coat and managed to lead him away.

"What a pity," said Legato with a slight smile, "I was enjoying that."

He watched Vash the Stampede until he was out of sight, then turned to me.

"Master Knives will be expecting our reports," he said, and was just about to add something else when there was a tap on the door.

I opened it and was surprised to see one of the kids who'd been at the orphan's hideout with Zazie.

"Ah, I've been expecting you," said Legato.

The youth pushed passed me. He held a large envelope in his hands and offered it to Legato.

"What's this?" he asked the child.

"Zazie's briefing packet. I thought it would be better if it didn't get into Vash the Stampede's hands."

"Very good. Anything more?"

"I planted the information about the disappearances in Tonim Town yesterday and mentioned the mysterious voice I'd heard to Vash The Stampede. You should have seen the look on his face. He took the bait all right. What a sucker. I just heard him tell the insurance girls that he was heading for Tonim Town, so I came here to let you know."

"What happened with the priest?" asked Legato.

"He rented a motorcycle. He told me he would wait outside town and follow them at a safe distance."

"What was his state of mind?" asked Legato with a glance at me. 

The boy answered, "I couldn't tell."

  
"That was expected. He is difficult to read. All in all, good work," said Legato, "and your disguise was impeccable. Even the Hornfreak didn't recognize you."

I gave the boy a closer look and was surprised when I finally placed him as one of the students in a strategy and tactics class.

The boy moved to leave but turned and said, "Zazie told me before he died that there are plans in the works to re-open Evergreen's Academy. Is the rumor true, Master Legato?"

"Master Knives has already set things in motion to start it up again, even better than before," said Legato.

This was news to me.

The boy seemed pleased as he left.

I heard the sound of a motor revving outside and saw the short insurance girl maneuver the vehicle that Nick had been driving the day before down the main street. Her partner, Millie, sat in the front passenger seat. Vash the Stampede was in the back, shoulders slumped in depression.

I saw the child exit onto the street and wave as the sedan passed by.

"Bye, Mr. Stampede!" shouted the boy with a big show of friendliness.

The greeting roused the gunman from his gloom momentarily, and he waved back.

The kid really was a hell of an agent.

"When are we leaving?" I asked Legato.

"Not for a while. I too must write a report and I expect some change in instructions from my master. It occurs to me that you'd better find Caine. I want him in position before Vash the Stampede arrives in Tonim Town. As for the Evergreen, I believe he is waiting for additional orders from Master Knives."

I left the room carrying Silvia's case. When I got to street level, I headed up the boardwalk in search of a bar, my best bet at finding Caine. 

The streets were full of wagons and crews still removing the carcasses of sandworms and the bodies of those that we had killed the night before. The people of the town had barred the gates of the city to prevent just such catastrophes. Now that the worst had happened, with the walls destroyed by the giant worms and half the population dead, the citizens of Keybas no longer seemed to care about a few strangers in their midst. 

I walked up to the doors of Gentleman Gene's Tavern and saw Caine sitting with Chapel the Evergreen at a booth in a quiet corner. I walked over and addressed the sniper, "Vash the Stampede is headed for Tonim Town. Legato wants you in place before he arrives."

Caine nodded, stood up and walked out of the room so quietly that no one in the saloon seemed to notice his passing.

"Does Legato have any instructions for me?" asked the Evergreen.

"He said you were expecting new orders from Knives."

"I was going to go wait at the wire office as soon as I finished this drink," he responded and lifted a whiskey glass to his lips and took a sip.

"Have you heard a rumor about the academy re-opening?" I asked him.

"I've already started the process," he said with a smile of satisfaction. "Just a few more days, and all this business with Vash the Stampede will be over for good."

"You have any students lined up?"

"That band of orphans has provided us with more than enough potential. I have made arrangements to take them under my wing. By the way, I have openings for full-time instructors in weapons range and in strategy and tactics. If you and Nicholas applied, I think the arrangement would be beneficial for the Academy and for the two of you as well."

I was glad he didn't see my shit-eating grin as he got to his feet, though I'm sure his infra-red implants took in my blush.

The idea of Nick and me as instructors sharing quarters at the academy---maybe it wouldn't be heaven on earth, but it was close enough.

"Think about it, Midvalley," he said, and left the saloon.

I slid into the seat that Caine had vacated.

A bar boy came to the booth and I ordered a brandy. He was back with it in moments. I took a sip and sighed as the alcohol hit home. I stretched my shoulders and began to relax a little.

After the prolonged stress of the past several months, a return to the academy sounded like a vacation. In fact, it sounded almost too good to be true.

There was still a hitch in the plans and that was Vash the Stampede. 

Was I the only Gung-Ho Gun that had noticed how our ranks had thinned? And what the hell was going to happen with Nick? He couldn't act as Vash the Stampede's bodyguard from 300 yarz away. He was going to be reassigned for sure. I liked to think that he would just go straight to the academy, but I wondered if Knives' offer was bona fide. 

Just like the kid had said about Vash taking the bait, I began to wonder if that's what the Evergreen had done. The preacher wasn't naïve, but still, I knew Knives a lot better than he did. I felt a cold chill of certainty realizing that Knives would never be satisfied until we all were dead. With that grim thought, I pulled paper and a pen out of my pocket and began to write. 

Legato had been wrong when he suggested that writing about the mission would ease my distress. It only reminded me of its cause. I could still feel Nick's emotions and his mood was as dark as my own. I tried to send healing power through my link to him, but either his suffering was too great or I was so sunk in my own misery, I could not help him or myself.

I simply scratched my pen across paper and recorded the cold facts of the mission. The times, the places, the objectives attempted, the objectives achieved. 

A little later, the bar began to fill up with customers and I saw a young man walk in through the doors carrying a bulky drumset. Another man about the same age followed him carrying an instrument in a case. He walked over to the proprietor who was tending bar and asked, "Hey, Benny, what do you say about me and Jesse playing tonight?" 

"If you had three pieces, I'd think about it, Earl, but nobody wants to listen to a two-piece band and one piece is drums and the other is a bass. Shorty was your draw. No one played guitar like he did and I'm sorry he's dead, but it's not my problem."

"But we need the money."

"Sorry, kid, but it's a bar, not a charity. Find another musician who's half-way decent to sit in with you and I just might change my mind."

The exchange interested me, but I went back to my report writing just as one of the boys said. "You play, Mister?"

I kept writing, and I heard him ask again, "You play, mister?"

I looked up. He was standing at the bar, but he was talking to me.

"Yeah, I play," I responded.

"Is that your instrument?" he asked pointing at Silvia in her case in the booth next to me.

"Yeah."

"Do you want to play some music tonight?"

"I'm busy."

"You'll get paid," he said to me and then turned to ask the bartender, "won't he, Benny?"

"We don't know if he plays any good. I won't pay if he's no good," said the bartender in the background.

"Come on, mister, can't you play with us?"

I sighed. The thought of finding release from my emotions in Silvia was a god-send.

"Sure, kid," I said softly.

"You don't look real happy, mister. Did you lose someone in the massacre too?"

"Yeah, I lost someone."

I put the finishing touches on the report, folded it, and slid it into the inside pocket of my jacket. Then I unpacked Silvia and got ready to play.

Jesse was the name of the drummer. His energy reminded me of a young Lenny. Earl, the bass player was outgoing, the complete opposite of Toby. I liked their enthusiasm. They reminded me of me at the same age with that passion to make good music.

We hashed out a short list of songs for the first set. It didn't take long for Earl to tune to Silvia. After a couple of false starts where we got our signals crossed on the intro and I had a sick feeling of what have I got myself into, we swung into Five Moons Waltz. I only hoped the whole night wasn't going to be as bad as the first two minutes.

The first couple of songs are usually a little ragged anyway, when musicians new to each other's style play together for the first time. I had already decided that I was going to bow out after as gracefully as I could if things didn't get better fast. But the music improved. The fourth song was "G-string." Earl surprised me by playing the shit out of it and I had a horn solo in the middle that smoked. What audience there was in the saloon got excited and we got some whistles and spontaneous applause for how hot we played. 

"Damn, that was good, Mister, what the hell is your name anyways?" said Earl.

"Same to you, Earl. Call me Player. Where'd you learn to drum like that, Jesse?" I asked.

"Oh, around," he said modestly and took out his brushes and improvised a kick-ass percussion lick to start off 'Moonsrise'. These boys could jam with the best.

The bass player's fingers slunk up and down the neck of his instrument while his right hand plucked out the deep vibrations. The drummer slid the soft brushes on the snare, and light taps on the thin crash cymbal to keep the rhythm simmering. Toby and Lenny would have liked the way they played. Silvia softly moaned the blues.

At the end of the first set, the three of us were bubbling with high spirits.

Benny the bartender said, "That was real good, the way you played that sax. You sound better than that guy who plays with the Midvalley Seven."

"Thanks," I said. 

He slid another brandy across the bar to me, "On the house," he said. "Hey you know that song "Cocksure?"

"Sure do," I said with a grin. "That a request?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Maybe it'll get some of these folks dancing."

"Cocksure?" Earl said, when I mentioned the request. "Check out this bass line," he said with a grin, and started the song off with a run of deep throbbing notes.

Jesse stepped up next with his drumsticks a blur. The rhythm he set was hot, primal and it caught me instantly. For the first time that night, I completely gave myself to the music and let the urgent sensual notes flow wild and free through Silvia's throat.

Sure enough the dance floor filled up and the house showed us their appreciation. I was starting to enjoy myself. Earl and Jesse knew most of the songs from Hornfreak Gold and the Midvalley Seven mini album and we played several them in the second set.

A few patrons came over during the break to ask for my autograph. I scrawled my signature on a few paper coasters. Midvalley the Hornfreak. 

I wasn't half-way through the opening number of the third set, "Hell and Damnation" when I saw the audience getting restive and heard a worrisome sound of murmurs from the crowd.

I wondered if maybe more sandworms had been sighted near town.

When a beefy man in a plaid shirt and jeans stood up and said. "That guy is Midvalley the Hornfreak," I took my lips off Silvia's mouthpiece and Earl and Jesse stopped playing. 

"I heard a sax play last night when my wife got killed," said the man in plaid. 

"I heard wild crazy playing too," announced another voice. "I know it killed my boy, Sammy. I never saw so much blood from eyes, and nose and his ears and his mouth. He was only ten."

A voice from the back of the room called out, "That's how the Midvalley Seven died."

"Yeah and all those people in the saloon in Epril Town," growled Benny the bartender. "I heard it on the satellite. The story was the sax player just went crazy." 

"Lighten up, this guy is just playing some music and he's damned good, " said Earl.

"You think it's just a fluke that we hear sax playing and people die---I saw his picture in the Daily Dish. This is the guy."

He lifted up the coaster with the autograph. 

"He signed it just now" the man went on, "signed it, Midvalley the Hornfreak."

"Well, let's get the hell out of here then," said one of the bar girls.

There was a panicked flurry as several members of the crowd ran for the door but others stayed.

"I'm not afraid of this bastard," boasted a drunk with words slurring. "He killed my Emelina and it's time he pays the price." 

"Someone get a rope…"a voice shouted.

"Yeah, let's string him up!"

A group of men closed in on me. 

"Someone grab that sax of his!" shouted one of my attackers.

A group of men closed in on me, and a surge of black rage flowed through me. I laughed with scorn, took a deep breath, and let it flow through Silvia as my anger moved me. The thickening air slowed the movements of the men who tried to touch me.

I smiled darkly as they moved ever so slowly towards me, bloodlust in their eyes. The hatred in their faces changed to surprise as Silvia's high notes shrieked and squealed and dissolved the bonds between molecules and blood vessels burst in eyes, ears, noses, lungs and hearts of my attackers. 

Legs wobbled, bodies lurched and dropped down lifeless in a slow motion dance of death. A hand on my shoulder surprised me and Silvia snarled as I whipped around and saw the drummer's hand slip from my arm. He sagged to the floor, reproach in his eyes as his body stilled in death. The bass player was already slumped limp and lifeless.

I took my lips from the mouthpiece and looked around me. Bodies everywhere. Where there had been music and laughter, there was now a profound silence. My anger was gone and what I felt in its place was a curious emptiness.

I heard the batwing doors of the saloon squeak open. Legato entered the room and looked around with great interest.

"I've always admired your thoroughness, Hornfreak. It's part of what makes you such an exceptional field agent. I was going to tie up these loose ends myself, but you saved me the trouble. You ought to write a post-script to your report before you wire it.

I think I was in a state near shock. Left to my own devices, I don't know what I would have done. But with Legato's soothing voice giving me directions, I picked up Silvia's case, packed her carefully, latched the case, and headed for the door. The rest of the night seemed to pass in slow motion. 

Legato filed my report for me. He led me to the vehicle. 

"I know you'll drive carefully, Midvalley," he said with his smooth persuasive voice. "Our destination is Tonim Town. You will not think of what happened in the saloon."

I nodded, and waited until Legato got into the passenger compartment. I took my place at the wheel, started the engine, and set the vehicle in motion.

There were only two moons out. With the visibility limited and the roads poorly marked, it took me over seven hours to get to the outskirts of Tonim Town. Even though I knew it was a ghost town, still to see it with the lights still burning made me expect to hear the usual noise and bustle of a town, but all I heard was drifting sand. 

When I got out of the vehicle, Legato joined me, and a few minutes later, Chapel the Evergreen appeared.

"You must have received your response from Master Knives," commented Legato.

"Yes," responded the red-eyed preacher. "I met up with Caine and found out that the Stampede's party is at a hotel called the Tonim Townhouse. You can stay out of sight and still have a good view of the main street from the Plaza Hotel. If you use the rear entrance, you won't be seen."

"Very good. Have you seen Wolfwood yet?"

"Not yet."

"Odd," said Legato, but seemed unconcerned he walked off to follow the route that the Evergreen had pointed out. "Coming, Hornfreak?" he called to me over his shoulder.

I followed him into the hotel and to a room on the second floor that overlooked the plaza. A monument at the center of it bore the name Knives painted in red.

"I wonder where your friend, Wolfwood can have gotten to," said Legato. "He should have been here hours ago."

"If he's supposed to be here, I'm sure he'll show," I said.

"Your faith in him is commendable but still he is not here." Legato yawned. "I miss my morning coffee. Could you find me some please, Midvalley? Bring some sweets too. There must be some food in the pantry that is not spoiled."

I went down to the hotel kitchen and saw a black cat braced on the counter nibbling at a wedge of cheese. It didn't run away when I entered the room, but watched me warily with green eyes as I scouted the place. Except for some stale bread and spoiled fruit, there wasn't too much rotting food. 

I found a bag of ground coffee standing open. Not too fresh, but it didn't smell bad, so I brewed some. While I was waiting for it to finish, I looked for sweets. There was no cheesecake, but I found a tin of cookies in the pantry. While I looked for a tray to put the food and coffee on, I opened one of the cabinet doors and found I was looking at a dumbwaiter. I almost wished I hadn't seen the thing. I remembered very well the first time I had ever used one and it brought back vivid images of the day that Nick and I made love for the first time. 

I had an extreme physical reaction to the memory and had to sit down for a minute, my heart was beating so fast.

I wanted to be with Nick again. I could feel him through the link. He was quite near. I began to be in a hurry to get back to the room. I would probably get a glimpse of him soon.

I decided not to use the dumbwaiter. I finally found a tray and carried the food up to Legato's room.

He opened the door when I knocked with the toe of my wing-tip shoes.

"You're just in time," he said and gestured to the window. "Your faith was justified," he said.

I set the tray on the table, looked outside and saw Nick in the distance walking alongside a motorcycle that he guided with hands on the handlebars. It was clear his bike had another mechanical breakdown.

He stopped and parked the vehicle, set the Cross Punisher against the wall of a building, pulled out a toolkit, hunkered down and began wrestling with what looked like an oil filter. I wondered if it had sprung a leak. 

I had to smile when I saw the look of disgust on his face when he tossed it away. Nick and his motorcycles. It brought back fond memories. I grinned. Whatever pain he'd felt the previous day, he'd pretty much snapped out of it, and seemed to be facing the day in a relatively good mood especially considering the breakdown of his bike. That was a relief. I hated to have to worry about him.

I heard Legato pouring coffee behind me. "Have a cup, Midvalley?" he offered.

"Thanks. I said. "I could use some. I'm a little tired."

"Not surprising," said Legato. "You've been up for over 36 hours straight."

I grimaced as I tasted the coffee. It had been a little stale and I missed the cream I liked to use to doctor the bitterness.

I looked out the window again and saw Chapel the Evergreen walk slowly up the dusty street towards his son. When Nick finally saw him, I felt a strong surge of worry through the link, and wondered what was wrong. 

Nick stood up as his father approached. When the Evergreen finally stopped in front of his son, he pulled a green apple from his pocket and began to flip it up and down. I recognized the game as a reflex builder the Evergreen used to prepare students for the quickdraw contests at the academy. Nick made a few half-hearted attempts to grab the apple, but gave up.

I was sure he was sparing his father's feelings and didn't want to show the older man up. The Evergreen, as usual, seemed disappointed in his son. He talked a little, but didn't go on at length. Legato sidled up beside me and watched over my shoulder. 

"Ah, the Evergreen must be telling Wolfwood about his new assignment." 

I felt Nick's mood plummet through the link and knew that whatever the mission was, he hated it and it sure as hell wasn't weapons instructor at the academy.

Legato picked up on my emotions. He seemed sympathetic and said without preamble, "I know you'd like to help your friend, but if you and the priest are ever to be partnered again, you must let him accomplish this assignment on his own. Of course it is difficult, but have you ever known him to fail in a mission?"

Mission failure. What was the mission?

I didn't like where this was going. Then it dawned on me with utter clarity that while Vash the Stampede could weep over a murderer, he couldn't continue traveling in the company of one. If Nick couldn't operate in close proximity to Vash, it was obvious that he could no longer function as his bodyguard. Nick had lost his usefulness and Knives had reassigned him. 

Mission failure? Oh, hell, I was sure as could be that his mission, like Zazie's, was to kill Vash the Stampede. But if that was the case, Nick was being set up to fail, and I knew it.

But God, I was tired. I needed to wake up. I took a big drink of the coffee and caught the sound of Legato's hypnotic voice behind me.

"You must have faith in the priest's skill," I heard him say. "And should you attempt to contact him with Vash the Stampede so close by, you could ruin everything. The element of surprise is all important. If you contact him, you could actually be endangering his life and your own."

Legato could make anything sound reasonable, but I had a feeling he was hiding something from me.

"Answer me this, Legato," I challenged him, for I was angry now. "Why did Knives pick Wolfwood for the mission and not me or you? I think Silvia would have a better chance of killing him than a bullet, and as for your powers, I think you could kill him easily."

"Master Knives has resources you cannot imagine and so does his brother. You flatter me and yourself to think that Vash the Stampede would fall victim to psionic power. He is sensitive to it and he can read me when I use it. But Wolfwood is different."

And I realized in that moment how he was different. Nick had always been opaque to psionic power except with me. Not even Legato had been able to penetrate his mind.

I began to be persuaded that Legato had the right of it.

He confirmed as much with what he said next, "I think you wondered at my inability to enter Wolfwood's mind. In truth, the only time I ever picked any feelings from him was through you and then only physical sensations and some emotion."

I swallowed a lump that lodged in my throat as I thought of Nick, now in pain and with his life in jeopardy.

"In any case that is why Wolfwood was chosen for the mission," Legato said lightly. "Chapel the Evergreen made the suggestion himself---the right tool for the job. And when the job is done, Knives is setting up the academy, bigger and better than ever. In the last briefing I had from Knives, he told me that the Academy will reopen soon. He even encouraged me to scout for new talent. As far as teaching staff goes, he expressed a desire to have Wolfwood designated as the primary weapons instructor and for you to be the primary instructor in strategy and tactics."

I felt a surge of relief when I heard Legato confirm the Evergreen's story.

It almost sounded plausible, yet I still had very strong doubts. I had thought some of this out the night before but I was so sleep-deprived, it was hard to follow the logical progression.

"Drink your coffee, Midvalley," said Legato. "It will clear your thinking."

I took another swig.

"And you believe this story he told you?" I asked. 

There was still something about what Legato was telling me that felt wrong. 

"Knives is not our merciful savior," I continued. "He has nothing but contempt for me, for you, for all humans."

"What you say was true in the past," Legato said gravely. "I did feel his contempt and hatred, but it was because I failed his test. I failed him when he needed me and he hated me for it. I thought I could have it two ways," he said. "But Master will see I have changed."

I listened silent while my fatigue-fogged brain struggled to understand.

"I tried to make my master jealous by reminding him of my feelings for you. He was right to be disgusted with me. I have seen how you are with Wolfwood. He would give his life for you, as you would do for him. I am ready now to make the supreme sacrifice to win my master's love."

His voice held the slightest tremor when he said that last phrase.

Legato was sharing the deepest truth of his heart with me.

"Supreme sacrifice?" I repeated and shook my head to ward off the torpor that got heavier by the minute.

I swallowed the rest of the coffee in the cup.

"He will reward his faithful servant," Legato said softly.

"He'll kill you, Legato," I said. "I saw your scars."

"He will love me," insisted Legato.

"That's not love," I said.

When had I seen the scars?

"Was it yesterday?" I said. I couldn't remember. "Or the day before?"

"You're tired, Midvalley and not thinking clearly. Sit down."

"He wants to kill us all," I said with as much force as I could, but it came out a mumble. I sank into the chair at the table. My legs were so tired.

As for Nick, despite my fatigue, I felt his mental anguish through the link. His conscience was at war within him and I worried he might break from the struggle. His mission was to kill Vash the Stampede, but Vash was a friend and I realized with a sinking feeling that Nick would never kill a friend and Knives would kill him when he failed. 

"He's going to kill Nick," I heard my own trembling voice blurt out.

I needed to go to him, but when I tried to get up, I didn't have the strength. 

"What's the matter with me?" I groaned. I felt so distanced from my own body.

"Has this ever happened to you before?" asked Legato with concern.

"I have to…huh, what?"

I couldn't remember what he'd said. 

"I was talking and you just blanked out. Has that ever happened to you before?" asked Legato. 

"I think, maybe…." I couldn't remember, exactly. 

"You need rest," Legato said in a soothing voice.

"But Nick…" I sighed and my eyes closed.

"Rest," he repeated…..

Somehow, despite my weakness, I found myself standing and walking, but it didn't feel like walking. It was more like floating instead . Legato led me to the bed and I sank down on it. I still had the coffee cup in my hand and it slipped from my fingers. I saw it shatter on the floor and heard the crash a moment later.

"What…was… in… the… coffee…?" were the last words I heard myself slur.

__

When I woke up, for the first time in a long time, my heart felt at ease. I could hardly wait to see him again. I decided to wear the crushed velvet suit he always said was his favorite and walked over to the dining facility. I poured myself a cup of coffee with cream and selected a plain donut from a tray on the counter. I gave a nod and a smile to the cook in the kitchen…..what was his name? Oscar….It was good to see a familiar face. I sat down, took a bite of donut and then a sip of coffee. I drank in the fragrance of the brew. I hadn't had any quite this good for a while. I saw my reflection on the surface of the liquid. I sighed and wondered when Nick would be coming.

I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, it was to the sound of a cat mewing and a hand shaking my arm.

"Are you all right, Mr. Midvalley?" said Annie…"You look like you don't feel so well."

"I'm fine. I'm just waiting for Father Nick," I said with a smile.

"He's dead. You brought his coffin back with you this morning. You must be sick. Don't you remember?"

I wake up in shock with the sweat streaming down my body.

I hear shouts and see lighted torches burning in the dark.

"He's in here."

"Abomination!"

"Kill the murderer!"

I woke up with my heart beating fast, and a high-pitched voice whining, mocking me.

"I thought you'd be dead for sure, Whorefreak."

"Zazie?"

I turned to look at him.

He was a lovely young girl, slender and supple, dressed in black. 

"You thought a bullet could kill me? Think again. By the way, that's a real nice suit. Perfect for a funeral. Your friend is not long for this world."

"Shut up, Zazie," I said and rolled over and went back to sleep. 

I remember the feel of the night wind in my hair. The breath of the wind sounds like voices.

"Wake up! Wake up, Midvalley!"

It's her voice.

I lie on the bed and when I look out the window, I see the silver moon has her face, "Mother," I whisper softly.

"Wake up, he needs you!" she whispers back in her silvery voice.

"Who needs me. Mother?"

"They're killing him, Midvalley. Nick!" The tension in her voice finally rouses me and I feel the urgent need to go to him. 

But my fingers and feet move so slowly. Just to put my clothes on takes forever and to stumble down the stairs. When I walk out on the street, a storm is blowing. I try to run but the strong wind beats me back. My legs are so heavy. 

"I've got to go to him"

I see him in the street, smiling at the Evergreen, tasting a bite of a green apple.

I smile in relief. I have worried for nothing. Nick is fine.

I hear the muffled pop of Caine's weapon and the machine gun bark of the Evergreen's weapon.  
  
"I've got to go to him," I said as I struggled to get out of bed. I felt dizzy and weak. Legato was no where in sight.

The sound of distant gunfire continued and I doubled over from an acute sensation of pain in my guts like white heat in my brain.  
  
I opened myself to healing power and the sensation of pain in my body eased. I hurried down the steps to the hotel lobby and onto the boardwalk.

The street was deserted but the burning pain in my guts redoubled in intensity. I hugged my arm across the cramp and limped down the street, looking wildly in all directions until I calmed myself enough to get a sense of Nick's presence and a direction in which to travel. North, he was headed north. I walked up the street, a sensation of heat came over me, and then a cold chill. 

I passed a cross street, saw a tavern in flames. I got no sense that Nick was there...It wasn't what I was looking for. I stepped in something wet and my foot slipped. Blood. My heart beat fast with fear. I hurried my steps and followed the blood trail . In the distance I saw Vash the Stampede leaning up against a jeep. 

I wasn't supposed to let him see me, but he couldn't have anyway with his eyes closed and weeping. He was standing by a gravesite marked with the wreckage of a sniper rifle and a broad brimmed hat. Caine was dead.

The Stampede was so deep in his grief, he didn't notice me at all. In the distance, I saw a steeple and thought that maybe that was where Nick was headed. 

The pain in my side eased. The healing power I'd sent had helped . Nick must be feeling better I rejoiced. I hastened my limping steps. I wanted to be with him. 

I finally reached the church and as I pushed the door open, a flight of doves sped skyward wheeling into the blue.

It was dark in the church after the incandescent brightness of the twin suns and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

My lover was kneeling in front of the altar praying.

"Nick," I said with a sigh of relief.

I walked up behind him. The Cross Punisher was a heavy weight on his shoulders. I pushed it away and Nick began to fall sideways. I knelt to catch him and he sagged into my arms. 

My heart was beating too fast as I laid him back on the floor.

With trembling hands, I pulled open his coat. His white shirt was dyed red with blood. With fingers shaking I ripped open the buttons.

There were too many holes in his bronzed chest, the blood flowing from them, pooling on the floor.

A sob caught in my throat. 

"Ah, Nick---"

I placed a hand on his forehead and the other on his chest and let all the healing power I had flow through me. I closed my eyes, inhaling and exhaling, feeling a heat and tingling in my hands and then a magnetic sensation. My eyes snapped open when I heard a sharp intake of breath and I felt a surge of relief when I saw Nick's blue eyes looking up at me.

"Midvalley," he murmured softly. He lifted a hand to touch my face.

He coughed and a red froth of blood came up, caught on his lip and rolled down his chin and his hand fell away.

"I've got to go," he said faintly.

"Don't--no, don't go, Nick," I told him. I wouldn't let him leave me. He couldn't die.

"Meet me on the other side," he said. Then the light went out of his eyes, the lids slid shut, and he was gone from the link.

"Damn it! Nick!" I growled, my desperation growing. 

"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed. I was scared.

I pulled him into my lap, and tried again to revive him. My limbs trembled as the healing power filled me. 

"Oh, God help me!" I prayed as I clasped Nick's body to me.

I could feel the power surging in me as I breathed deep and long and steady and tried to find the link again.

"Don't leave me, Nick," I begged him, but still his body lay limp and lifeless in my arms. 

"Wake up," I shouted at him and shook him. but still he didn't wake.

I was sweating from the effort it took me to channel so much power. It had taken everything that I had just to bring him back for a minute---for him to open his eyes, whisper my name and touch my cheek.

Again and again I tried to open myself to healing power, but I had nothing left to give. 

There was nothing I could do. 

The link was gone.

I wept from frustration, my body shaking with the force of my emotions.

I put my hand over my mouth and my tears splashed down on his face. I wiped them away from his cheeks, then cradled his body in my arms. I held him tenderly as I gave vent to my sorrow. I don't know how long I rocked with him in my arms.

My tears came and went in waves. Part of the time I was out of my mind with grief and even convinced myself that if I just held him long enough he'd wake up again. 

When the tears stopped, I had moments of clarity when I realized that he was dead and wasn't coming back.

"Oh, Nick," I moaned low.

I had to let him go. 

I touched his face, smoothed the wild tangle of hair from his forehead, traced the planes of his cheek and the curve of his lips with my thumb and leaned to kiss them one last time. They were cold.

I began to cry again. I settled his body on the floor in a patch of light from a stained glass window. 

Nick had picked this place to die and I felt that the empty church would make a fitting tomb for him. I buttoned his shirt and jacket, straightened his legs, and folded his arms across his chest in a cross. 

If I'd had Silvia with me, I would have played "Serenade" for him.

That's what I 'll do, I thought. I'll go back and get Silvia and play it for him one last time.

To be continued.


	45. Last Call

Last Call  
  
I left the church with one backward glance at Nick, his body bathed in the glow of the stained-glass window and hurried down the empty street.  
  
My nerves were raw. I felt lost and alone, and all I knew was that I needed Silvia. I ran up the staircase to the room, threw open the door, spied the sax case on the floor, grabbed it and hurried down the steps again.  
  
I ran all the way back to the church, threw open the door and was stunned to see Vash the Stampede kneeling by Nick's body, touching him.  
  
A feeling of sick jealousy ran through me and was shortly augmented by rage. My fingers fumbled with the latches on the case.  
  
"I'll kill him!"  
  
Black thoughts of death and destruction filled my mind, sick horrors, my mother's shattered face, Legato's scars, Nick's bullet-punctured chest.  
  
Vash the Stampede was bending over Nick's body and the air was thickening.  
  
I walked across the sandstone pavers, with my mouth poised over Silvia's reed.  
  
He looked up at me with stricken eyes. I loathed him.  
  
"You, bastard," I said.  
  
Chaos, destruction, hatred, death, all my anger gathered in mass and density, I inhaled, settled my lips on the mouthpiece but turned at the sound of rushing wind behind me. A thick veil of dust blinded me and filled my nose. I closed my eyes against the stinging grit and struggled against the power of the swirling cloud that swept me away. I couldn't breathe or see and heard only the roar of the wind. Eventually in the black my consciousness faded.  
  
Snatches of dreams, an image.the skull.my lips on the mouthpiece, I blow through the reed. Blinded by the spotlight. I close my eyes. I know the song by heart.  
  
"Where am I?" I hear my voice cracked and hoarse. No answer comes, but the rumble of wheels and my consciousness fades again.  
  
Now I walk in the moonlight while a soft breeze sighs, "Midvalley."  
  
"Nick?"  
  
I turn and see him in the distance walking with his familiar gait. He turns and beckons to me and I start to follow.  
  
I hurry over unfamiliar terrain , feel my foot catch as something grasps at my ankle. I stumble.  
  
"Don't look down," says a voice. I keep my eyes on Nick's back. He is further away now.  
  
"Nick!" I shout, but he doesn't seem to hear me and keeps on walking. I start to run.  
  
"Nick!" I shout again. I am gaining on him. I get closer and closer and start to smile.  
  
"Midvalley," a voice like velvet whispers.  
  
I almost turn to see what he wants, but a small voice warns me, "Don't look back."  
  
I hurry after Nick. With a few more steps I can touch his sleeve. Breathless, I want to tell him wait.  
  
I reach out for his shoulder, but feel myself pulled back, dragged back.  
  
"Nicholas!" I scream with all my strength, but the words come out a soft moan.  
  
He can't hear me. He is leaving me behind.  
  
Angry now, I break loose from the bonds that hold me back.  
  
"No, wait for me!" I shout again.  
  
Up the hill I run after him, with a stitch in my side and my lungs burning. When I crest the top, I can't see him right away. Before me lies a vast expanse of green rolling hills and sparkling blue water.  
  
"It's so beautiful," I say.  
  
And then I see Nick again and a feeling like coming home settles in my heart.  
  
I watch for a moment as he picks his way down a path on the hillside. I stumble after him eagerly, but a dust storm whips up and I can't see him. I grope blindly for him and catch at his hand, but I feel it slip away..  
  
I feel lips on mine. Hands press on my chest. Someone breathes in my mouth.  
  
I coughed and coughed. My lungs were still irritated by the dust.  
  
"Here, drink," he said. His voice as smooth and persuasive as ever.  
  
He put the canteen in my hand and I raised it to my mouth and swallowed. My throat was so dry.  
  
"Legato," I said.  
  
"Rest," he said.  
  
I slept.  
  
I woke to the sound of rhythmic rumble of wheels turning. I recognized that I was lying in one of the sleeping berths of the armored car. The vehicle stopped and I heard the sound of footsteps in the sand outside. When the door opened, bright sunlight shone through as Legato stepped inside.  
  
"Ah, you're awake at last," he said. "I didn't know if you were going to make it or not. One might almost think you had a death wish."  
  
"Death wish?"  
  
My head ached. I sat up swung my legs onto the floor.  
  
"There's a bucket by your feet," said Legato.  
  
When I stood up, I doubled over with cramps and threw up in the pail and almost fainted. My legs wouldn't hold me and I sat down heavily, my forehead dripping with sweat.  
  
Shreds of memory gathered at the edges of my consciousness.  
  
"Where's Nick," I asked.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
I remembered then and blinked my eyes, licked my lips and lapsed into a dumb silence.  
  
He had died in my arms and after that I couldn't remember what happened. I had been going somewhere to do something. I was going to play a song---  
  
"Where's Silvia?" I asked with a touch of panic.  
  
"Right here," said Legato and gestured to the case on the floor by his feet.  
  
I stepped across the aisle, picked her up, and sat back down with the case in my lap and opened it feverishly.  
  
I took Silvia out and looked her over anxiously. I was relieved that there were no obvious dings or bends but I noticed when I looked closer that her surface was slightly pitted with grit.  
  
"Oh, shit!" I said and upended the horn. A stream of sand poured from the bell.  
  
"It could have been worse," said Legato.  
  
"Oh, how so?"  
  
"You're lucky you landed on your back."  
  
I was checking to see if the valves were still sound, and my stomach lurched when he said that. I had seen saxes, battered and dented. It could have been much worse, but it was still going to take some time to clean her.  
  
"Where are we headed?"  
  
"Demethri," he responded.  
  
Knives was in Demethri, but I didn't want to think about that just now.  
  
"Where is Nick?" I asked suddenly.  
  
"His body is in the church at Tonim Town.  
  
My head was still pounding with a ferocious headache.  
  
Legato offered me two pills and a canteen and then I remembered something and dashed the pills from his hand, "You drugged me!" I exclaimed angrily.  
  
"Suit yourself," said Legato. "They are only pain relievers."  
  
I vomited in the pail again, wiped the spittle from my lips and shivered with chills while the pain in my head still pounded.  
  
He offered me two more tablets without a word. I took them this time and washed them down with the canteen he offered.  
  
The sour stink of my sickness still hung in the air, but Legato seemed unaffected.  
  
After a time, the pills took effect. I tried to remember but recollection was hazy. I needed to know, so I asked him, "What happened?"  
  
"Wolfwood refused the assignment."  
  
The assignment. Vash the Stampede.  
  
It was starting to come back to me.  
  
Now I recalled the tight shot pattern of 50 cal bullets in Nick's torso.  
  
"The Evergreen killed his own son?"  
  
"Yes, Chapel killed him."  
  
The thought depressed me deeply and I set Silvia down.  
  
"Where are we?" I asked.  
  
"Just about an hour from Demethri," he responded.  
  
"Shall I drive?"  
  
"Ordinarily, I would accept the offer, but you should make sure Silvia is in good order. There will be another mission waiting for us."  
  
I nodded. Legato left the vehicle, closed the door behind him and the vehicle rumbled once more down the road.  
  
I didn't want to think about Nick, but more than once as I changed the pads of Silvia's keys and checked the valves, I found my eyes brimming and had to pause to wipe the tears away. The pills had eased my headache, but did nothing for the sense of dumb grief that weighed on me. I tried to keep my mind on the task on hand, as I cleaned the dust from Silvia's bell and rechecked the firing mechanism.  
  
When I saw Silvia's reed almost bitten clear through, I remembered how it happened. I had tried to kill Vash the Stampede when I saw him reach for Nick.  
  
After I finished cleaning Silvia, put in a new reed, slipped on the mouthpiece, and tightened the ligature, I played a few scales to see if her voice was still true. She seemed unharmed so I packed her carefully back in her case.  
  
My clothing was covered with Nick's blood. I rummaged in my duffel, found a dark purple sharkskin suit and a clean shirt and changed. My two- toned wingtips were blood spattered, so I slipped on a pair of desert boots, and while I was tying the laces, the vehicle stopped. We had arrived in Demethri.  
  
Knives' dwelling was in an abandoned space ship partially covered by a rock slide. Legato pressed a hidden button near the entrance and the doors opened.  
  
Inside the cavernous opening, we found an enclosed carriage drawn by a team of stout animals waiting for us.  
  
As I followed Legato into the vehicle, I looked into the distance. The dim corridor appeared to stretch on indefinitely.  
  
The vehicle took off. We traveled for perhaps a quarter of an hour and when the carriage stopped, Legato got up and left. I followed him. We had arrived at a crossroads. On the wall at the side was a console with odd blinking lights and a number of screens. I saw a view of the vehicle we had left outside the complex on one of them.  
  
Legato pressed a couple of buttons on the console and the large metal doors slowly parted with a mechanical groan revealing a chamber within.  
  
"Wait here," he said, and entered the room and disappeared from view and the doors closed with a muffled clang behind him.  
  
While Legato was gone, I tried to fill in the holes in my memory, but the only image that recurred with distressing frequency was Nick's bullet- punctured chest. I was going to drive myself crazy, if I kept on in that way. Just to maintain my sanity, I pulled out Silvia and decided to play, but the first song I found myself playing was "Serenade". Nick's song.  
  
I found myself reaching out, trying to reopen the link with Nick. My father had suggested it was possible, but as much as I tried to empty myself to let the power fill me, I felt like a sentimental fool when absolutely nothing happened, and I heard only the echoes of Silvia's voice reverberating in the empty cavern. A series of piercing shrieks from the console, and the amber panel lights began to flash on and off startled me out of my self-contempt.  
  
Legato joined me a few moments later. His fingers moved swiftly over the keys of the console. The image of the armored vehicle on the screen was replaced by the tall figure of Chapel the Evergreen, his infra-red implants gleaming like cats eyes in the noontide sun. He was carrying the weapon he had used to kill Nick.  
  
A hot flash of anger possessed me and I wanted to kill him.  
  
"Control your emotions," Legato commanded me. "Master has questions for him."  
  
Outside the Evergreen fumbled trying to find the entrance to the complex and Legato pressed more buttons and shifted levers.  
  
"The mouse won't find the entrance to the maze without a little help," he said. He pushed one last lever into place, the outside door slid open and the Evergreen entered.  
  
"Let's meet him, Midvalley, and make sure he doesn't wander astray."  
  
We got into the carriage and the animals began to draw it down the road.  
  
We had to make a few turns in the tunnel, but in a few minutes, through the carriage window, I saw the Evergreen standing on a bridge with a gate behind him.  
  
We got out of the vehicle and Legato greeted the priest.  
  
"I'm so glad you're here. You're just the man I wanted to see. "  
  
The Evergreen seemed angry at the greeting.  
  
"I know you're unhappy because I forced you to kill Nicholas D. Wolfwood," said Legato.  
  
I was startled by his words, but had no time to reflect on them, as the Evergreen split his cross into two machine guns and would have mowed both Legato and me down, if Legato hadn't used his mind powers to bend the priest's spine into an agonizing backbend. He had no chance of attacking from that position.  
  
"Your role has come to an end. The final act is about to begin," Legato said.  
  
I took that as a cue from him, and I raised Silvia's reed to my lips out of habit when the door behind the priest whirred open and Knives Millions walked through it. He leaned over the priest whose body was still contorted in agony as if examining a specimen.  
  
"Just what did you hope to gain by coming here?" he asked him.  
  
"I had a debt to repay."  
  
"That was just stupid," said Knives. "Most animals run when they sense danger. Your action was senseless, but I suppose that you think that your sacrifice has meaning. I assure you it does not."  
  
"I had no where else to go," groaned the priest, his body racked with pain. "A cornered rat will attack the cat," he gasped.  
  
"And be consumed by it," said Knives with a bemused smile. "I suspect it attacks its better out of some perverted sense that it will share in some of that superiority. But that is just an idle dream, like your notion of a heaven. Do you think you might earn paradise through suffering? Let's conduct an experiment and see."  
  
Knives glanced at a device at the wall, made a subtle gesture and the device emitted streaks of light and soon formed a crackling energy ball which made its way to Chapel the Evergreen's body.  
  
"I'm afraid that you have reached the crossroads between life and death. Is the next stop heaven, hell or the garbage dump?" Knives mocked him.  
  
The Evergreen screamed in pain as the orb enveloped his body.  
  
"This is how garbage is disposed of and that is what you are, as all humans are," he said.  
  
I watched in horror as the black void enveloped the priest's body completely and his screams of agony diminished as the void grew smaller and smaller and finally vanished.  
  
He turned to Legato and said, "But even garbage has its uses."  
  
"Understood, Master. Eternal pain and suffering is your will for him and I will do your bidding."  
  
As for me, I was still in a state of near shock from the death of the Evergreen. This might be the punishment that awaited me if I failed Knives Millions.  
  
"That's the proper attitude of humility," he said to me. He had read my thoughts. "You should be scared."  
  
" As for you, Legato, what need do I have for your love, when I have your fear?" he said to his servant. "That alone is enough to inspire your devotion to me. No?"  
  
He turned to me," I understand you tried to kill my brother. For that alone, I should finish you off as I did the Evergreen just now..but 'no harm, no foul', eh? Legato saved you from your own stupidity as usual and so you're still alive, not that you have much reason for living, since Wolfwood died."  
  
"But as I said," he continued, "even garbage serves a purpose and there's something you will do for me. You are to play a final scene with my brother. You are not to kill him, no matter how hot your blood boils. He could drive a saint to anger, I know. But your job is to get him to kill you."  
  
He reached into a pocket of the one piece bodysuit he wore and handed me a sheet of paper.  
  
"To that end," he said, "I've prepared some lines for you. Some braggadocio, a little bombast, a little something to wound his pride in the hope that he will overcome his scruples about killing. You don't have to learn them verbatim, just the gist should be enough. I can't guarantee that he'll kill you, but I will make a bargain. Just play your part and I'll let your what's left of your family go on living."  
  
"My father?" I asked but he didn't answer my question.  
  
"Just take your cue from Legato when the time comes," he said. "You're a performer, so I expect some showmanship."  
  
"Now, Legato," said Knives with mesmerizing intensity, "it is time for you to produce some results. The price of failure? You know it well, I am aware. But success is within your grasp. If you pull out all the stops, your thirst for justice will be satisfied."  
  
"Very good, Master," Legato replied with a deep bow as Knives began to leave the chamber.  
  
"How do I know my father's alive?" I asked Knives again as he walked past me.  
  
"All your questions will be answered in LR Town," he replied.  
  
Legato was still bent over in a servile bow.  
  
"What are you waiting for, Legato?" Knives taunted him. "A good-bye kiss?  
  
The last sound we heard as the door slid shut, was Knives' roars of laughter.  
  
Legato's face seemed frozen. I avoided meeting his eyes and brushed past him.  
  
"I'll drive," I said.  
  
On the way to LR, I tried to make sense out of what had happened, but too much had happened in too short a time. I was numb from what I had seen. I didn't want to die, but there were different ways to die. The display of Knives' power had made me realize that anything was better than the way he had killed the Evergreen.  
  
We made LR town by a little before 6 PM.  
  
"I will book a room at the hotel, Midvalley. Are you coming?" Legato asked me.  
  
"I have some business to attend to," I told him.  
  
I went to the bank and the wire office. Out of habit, I checked to see if there were any messages for me. There was a handful, mostly junk. A request for an interview from the Daily Dish, a flyer from Monk's music, some reports from the Mouth of Gabriel agents.  
  
I leaned against a railing in the boardwalk and stared off into space with the letters in my hands.  
  
As if they mattered. I had neither the time nor the inclination to sort through them all.  
  
"I might be dead by this time tomorrow," I said out loud.  
  
But then, I thought, that was always true. I might have died when that ricochet had given me the concussion, or been hanged by the lynch mob at Keybas, or disintegrated by Knives.  
  
Yes, death was a daily possibility that in the past, I chose to ignore, but today was different.  
  
At the graduation picnic, I remembered Nick quoting the bible. "He who lives by the sword shall perish by the sword."  
  
We had both done it---lived by the sword--- and killed indiscriminately. The drummer and the bass player at Keybas didn't want to die and I hadn't wanted to kill them, but that's how the thing had played out. They were dead, Nick was dead, and now it was my turn.  
  
Death is the end of life, and life is a song that ends when the singer runs out of words to say. If life was like music, with melody, rhythm and flow, maybe death was the silence that followed. I thought of Nick's body, so still and silent in my arms. My mother's voice silenced. The heart stops beating and there's an end to the music of the body. Nothingness and silence when the music ends.  
  
Nothingness. The weight on my heart at the thought that I would never see Nick again was too much to bear.  
  
"God help me," I prayed as I leaned on the railing and wept.  
  
In time, the tears dried and I wiped my eyes on the cuff of my suit.  
  
Is that why people believe in God, I wondered. To throw off this terrible feeling of despair?  
  
When the emotional storm had blown over, I thought about death a little more and it occurred to me that without the silence between the notes, there would be no music.  
  
Music is the notes and the spaces between them, I decided.  
  
"And maybe Nick is resting in the silence and is just waiting to begin again." I said to myself and felt hoping rising in me once more.  
  
Despite my brave thought that I might find Nick in the silence of death, still I was scared. I wasn't ready to give up living while I had breath in my body. I couldn't let fear paralyze me though or my final hours would be a living hell, so I had to put it aside.  
  
"If I have to die, so be it, but I'll be damned if I spend my last hours waiting to die," I said to myself.  
  
I tucked the mail into my pocket, picked up my sax case, squared my shoulders, and pushed through the batwing doors of the Dij bar.  
  
At 7PM, it wasn't dead but it wasn't hopping either. The usual after-work crowd had been pouring drinks down their throats for a couple of hours and only a little the worse for it. The usual complement of drunken customers were pawing the far more agile bar girls. The shop boys were bragging about their latest romantic conquests. The lonely hopeless were half-way to stupor. I went up to the bar ordered a brandy and asked the bartender, "You have any music booked in here tonight?"  
  
"The talent should be showing up any minute now," he answered.  
  
I decided to finish my drink and check out the action at another bar, if the scheduled group wouldn't let me sit in, and they might not, if they recognized me.  
  
Just a few minutes later, I heard the metallic clang of cymbals and turned to see a man push through the batwing doors, with a bulky drumset in his arms. He was carrying it high and I couldn't see his face. He staggered over to the bandstand, set his burden down, and when he turned around, I recognized the drummer I'd played with at the Bedbug.  
  
I walked over and said, "It's Chris, isn't it?"  
  
"You remembered. It's good to see you again, Midvalley," he said.  
  
"Keep it down a little. Call me Player," I said.  
  
"I heard you had more than your share of troubles, Player," he said, and his eyes shifted away for a moment.  
  
"What have you heard? Have you seen Hot Lips around?"  
  
"Over there," he said and he indicated the entrance with a thrust of his chin.  
  
I looked where he pointed, and saw at once that his hair had gotten grayer since I'd seen him last and he looked older and more frail, but his eyes lit up when he saw me.  
  
I stepped over to enfold him in a hug.  
  
"Son," he said and I felt a pang as his arms closed around me. "I know your friend is dead, and I'm sorry for your loss. I know how you must feel."  
  
I willed my mouth not to tremble, though I almost broke down, but I had another concern.  
  
"Your being here can't be a coincidence," I said.  
  
"You're right, son. Knives sent me. For good or ill, I'm Knives's man, bought and paid for and I go where he sends me, but I have my reasons."  
  
As did I.  
  
"Did he send Chris? And Paul?" I asked.  
  
"No, I just thought that you might want to make some music. I know I do".  
  
A couple of young men bustled in with guitar cases.  
  
"How many musicians are coming?"  
  
"I expect six plus you and me."  
  
"Eight," I considered. "Like the Midvalley Seven and Kenny McCoy?"  
  
"Yes, something like that. I know it's hard on short notice, but I put together the best band I could."  
  
"But do they know my reputation, and are they willing to play with me?"  
  
"They're all Mouth of Gabriel, son, well all except one," he said in with an odd look. "They want to play with you. More wanted to come. You'll be among friends, tonight."  
  
A man in a tweed suit and a touring cap walked in tentatively.  
  
"Uh, McCoy?" he asked.  
  
Hot Lips turned.  
  
"The piano?" the man prompted him.  
  
"Backstage. I called to have it tuned. Have Chris and Paul help you roll it in."  
  
"Thanks," he said and walked off in search of Chris.  
  
I took Silvia out of her case, checked the action of the valves, took a reed out of the reed holder and tested her tone with a few bluesy riffs.  
  
Hot Lips stepped up on the stage, unpacked his trumpet, gave it a loving swipe with his red bandana, knotted the red silk square around his throat and blew an arpeggio of silver notes, that got the attention of everyone in the bar.  
  
For a moment all eyes were on him, but when he heard the doors of the saloon swing and squeak on their hinges and looked to see who was coming in, my eyes followed his.  
  
A slip of a girl walked in, carrying a small instrument case. She couldn't have been more than 17, if that. I was guessing that she must be the fiddler. She looked around a little nervously and then calmed when she glimpsed Hot Lips. When she smiled her brown eyes lit up and she waved when she saw him. The closer she came, the more I could see that she was a real beauty with lovely skin like milk and roses, and shiny brown hair, that fell like silk to either side of her high forehead.  
  
"Sorry, I'm late," she said.  
  
She had a lovely speaking voice.  
  
When she was standing next to Hot Lips, I got the surprise of my life. Except for being a girl, she was the spitting image of my father.  
  
I thought back to the women I had seen at some of our gigs, standing in line patiently to get his autograph and had to smile.  
  
That sly old dog I thought to myself. It was good to have something to smile about.  
  
"Valerie," he said to the girl, "this is Midvalley. I told you about him."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," she said politely, and then turned to take her violin out of the case.  
  
"So what do you think of her?" Hot Lips asked me.  
  
"Well, she's gorgeous, but can she play? She's so young."  
  
"Have a little faith in your old man. I started you on lessons when you were nine as I recall."  
  
The piano player's fingers rippled over the keys playing the notes of an old ragtime tune, I remembered from the whorehouse. He was good, really good.  
  
In the meantime, the girl checked her tuning against the piano, rosined the bow and played a few catchy bars of a reel with practiced power and ease. Her self-possession and musical style left me with my mouth hanging open.  
  
"Didn't I tell you, Midvalley," said my father with a nudge of the elbow in my side.  
  
I nodded in agreement. While the rest of us tuned up, the bar gradually filled with patrons.  
  
"How come there are so many customers? Pretty strong turn-out for a Monday."I commented.  
  
"I thought it would be more fun with an audience, so I had the bartender put the word out. You ready?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Let's make it special, son," he told me.  
  
Hot Lips called the tunes for the first set and I was content just to play the best I could. If this was going to be my last performance, I was going out with style.  
  
Hot Lips was Hot Lips. His virtuoso playing always inspired me, and tonight was no exception. As for the other musicians, they ran the gamut from solid to great. As for the girl, she was something special, in a class by herself. She more than held her own. She knew how to lose herself in the music and find herself again. I found myself looking forward to her fiddle breaks, her improvisations were so spirited and unique. The crowd in the bar seemed to love us and the dance floor filled up, number after number.  
  
During the first break, Legato appeared at the door and took a table in the back of the room. We exchanged a glance and then looked away.  
  
I looked around at the musicians at the bar picking up drinks and sitting at the tables. Valerie was up on the bandstand changing a string that had broken at the end of the last song. While she was checking the tension, she turned into the light, and I was astonished to see how much she resembled Silvia in profile.  
  
"She really is exquisite. I didn't know you had a daughter, too," I said to my father.  
  
"I don't," he said.  
  
My eyes narrowed in incomprehension.  
  
"She's my grand-daughter."  
  
"Who's the father?" I asked.  
  
No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I knew the answer--  
  
"You are," he confirmed it for me.  
  
I was glad I was sitting down.  
  
"How long have you known, dad?"  
  
"All her life."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"I just couldn't," he said. "I was under orders. She was specially bred for the talent. She has more power than either of us, but she has never had to use it, not like we had to.and I want to keep it that way as long as I can."  
  
"And that's why you still work for Knives Millions."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Does she know who I am?"  
  
"Not yet," he replied.  
  
"You'll tell her when I'm gone?"  
  
He nodded and we got up to play again.  
  
In the second set we played our best. The music was spirited and lively and the dancers kicked up their heels from the joy of living. I watched my daughter with the violin tucked under her chin. She was so fresh and innocent and played with such talent. I wondered which one of my chance encounters with women had lead to her birth and how Knives had found her. With no answers available to the question, I decided that it didn't matter. I felt a strong connection with her. When we played, our energies fed off each other. There was an undeniable bond between us that captivated me, but made me fearful for her too.  
  
After the set during the break, I pondered the meaning of these new feelings. Was this what it had been like for Nick? Two choices and neither palatable. His choices were either to kill a friend or be killed himself.  
  
He must have known the minute he refused to carry out the mission that he was as good as dead and yet he had done it anyway. And when it came to a question of killing his father, he couldn't do that either.  
  
Now I faced a choice, I could die or my daughter would die. The mental image of her bloody body displayed in the town square as a warning to others as Dominique's had been, gave me a cold chill. It would be far better if I died.  
  
What had the doctor from Mei City said? He'd called children our hope for the future, and she was mine. I hadn't known I had a daughter, so I found myself in unaccustomed territory.  
  
In the third set, the music flowed out of me free, pure, spontaneous. While I played I felt as though I might live forever.  
  
I don't want to die I thought. I don't want to lose this feeling that I get when I play.  
  
I heard my daughter, Val, playing with passion and purity.  
  
It eased the burden on my heart to think that a part of me would live on in her.  
  
I was just as quiet during the last break as I had been on all the others. I had a lot on my mind.  
  
"Meet me on the other side," Nick had made me promise on the last night we spent together.  
  
Even then, he'd known he would probably not survive. Yes, even then he must have known that he would switch his loyalty from Knives to Vash the Stampede, and that puzzled me a little. I wondered why he would risk the lives of the orphans of December with his disobedience. Knives Millions wouldn't turn a hair over killing human children. It didn't make sense.. I knew what Nick valued most, and he would never gamble with the lives of the orphans unless...  
  
It came as a shock to me, but even as I thought it, it made sense.  
  
Nick believed that Vash the Stampede could defeat his brother, Knives.  
  
Everyone else thought the Stampede was a fool and a madman. When I looked at the decisions he'd made, I realized how lucky he'd been. Skillful too, there was no denying that, but there were people dead, because he refused to look at the facts and make an informed choice. There comes a time to make a choice, and sometimes the worst choice is to make no choice at all. That's what the Evergreen used to say, and he was right. Nick was dead because Vash the Stampede refused to make a choice.  
  
If I'd known earlier that I had a choice between Vash the Stampede and Knives Millions, I would have chosen Vash. I could tell he was the better person of the two. I might even have been his friend. Nick had told me that Vash and I had more in common than I knew. But it was too late for me to trade sides. I had the future of a daughter to think of.  
  
It was the easiest thing in the world to make my decision then. I would choose life for my daughter.  
  
I wasn't afraid of death anymore.  
  
"Ready for the last set, son?" Hot Lips asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Any special ideas about what song should we start the set with?"  
  
"Serenade," I said.  
  
Silvia, sleek and sinuous, caressed the sliding notes. I let Nick's song fill me and the soft notes of the plaintive love ballad floated to the rafters of the saloon.  
  
I said the words of the song in my heart as I played and was wishing that Dixie was still alive to sing them when a sweet alto voice soared with the lyrics.  
  
"When the sky turns dark, and fireflies start to spark and I feel myself sliding into love. And inside your warm embrace, how my heart begins to race at the tenderness I feel in your kiss. Though you may travel far away, yet in my heart you'll stay, these feelings I will cherish all my days. 'Til you come back to stay, to remind me I will play this serenade.."  
  
The quality and the feeling that she put into her singing raised every hair on my body. My heart swelled with love for her as she sang.  
  
"'With the suns first light, imagine my delight, when I see you lying close to me so warm. And this passion that I feel, how it makes my senses reel, lying lost in love in your arms. Though you may travel far away, yet in my heart you'll stay, these feelings I will cherish all my days. 'Til you come back to stay to remind me, I will play this serenade.'"  
  
Couples on the dance floor moved as one with the beat, their lips tasting each others kisses.  
  
"What song's next, Midvalley?" asked Hot Lips with a smile.  
  
"Because of You, Under a pale moon, All Night Long Without You, You Belong to Me, Wish You Were Here, My Buddy, Silvia's Tune.."  
  
"But those are all ballads, son.."  
  
"That's right."  
  
For the rest of the night we played nothing but love songs.  
  
In the corner, I saw Legato, his head downcast and a gleam of wetness on his cheek, and when the last song was over, I saw him applauding with the rest of the audience, an ovation that went on and on while the band took its bows.  
  
After the crowd thinned out the eight of us made music and jammed until dawn. Finally Chris said, "My stomach's growling. It's nearly six in the morning and the bakery across the street has fresh donuts. Can't you smell them? Anybody else in here hungry? I've got to get something to eat."  
  
"Not for me," I said. "I have everything I need."  
  
I was still high from the music.  
  
The girl, Valerie, walked up to me. She seemed very shy and hesitant.  
  
"Mr. Midvalley, Grandpa told me you were a wonderful musician, and he was right. I'll never forget you. The music was like heaven tonight."  
  
"I won't forget tonight either," I said, "you played like an angel."  
  
She blushed, said "Thank you," then turned quickly and went back to the bandstand to pack up her violin.  
  
I was very touched by what she said, though she could not know what effect her playing , her singing, her words, her very existence had on me The saloon was nearly empty.  
  
I sat at a table with the feeling of warmth still on me.  
  
My father came to me.  
  
"We don't have much time left," he said. "If there's anything I can do for you, let me know."  
  
"As a matter of fact, there are a few things, " I said.  
  
I took out a sheet of paper and a pen from my breast pocket. It took me only a few minutes to scribble a list, fold it and set it in his hands. What I'd written was concise and to the point. Nick would have been proud of me, I thought with a smile.  
  
"He's coming, Midvalley," said Legato.  
  
"I'll be ready," I said as he left the saloon and walked across the plaza just beginning to fill with the new day's activities.  
  
I went to the bar and ordered a double shot of bourbon.  
  
The bartender poured me the drink and said, "No charge."  
  
I picked up Silvia and walked outside. The first rays of the rising sun blinded me after the dim light of the saloon. Hot Lips and Valerie followed me out. I pulled my father by the coat sleeve to have a word apart with him.  
  
"Don't let her watch, dad.Don't let her see me, like I found my mother."  
  
He nodded and after one last hug he said, "You can't know how much I'll miss you." He choked up then and couldn't say more. With a last glance of regret, he walked away with my daughter beside him.  
  
"Who was that man, Grandpa? He looked so much like you?" I heard her say.  
  
It made me sad that she didn't know who I was, but I knew that one day he would let her know that I was her father. I sat down at a table on the veranda facing the saloon to shade my eyes from the glare. I looked at the reflection of the town square in the window as I cradled Silvia in my lap.  
  
I saw my face mirrored in the glass. When I saw the stubble on my unshaven face, I rubbed my hand along my jaw. Like sandpaper. I looked like hell. That was no way to meet up with Nick again. But what if I never met up with him? I started to cry with frustration. Fear was crippling me, again.  
  
"God help me," I prayed. "I don't want to die."  
  
In my despair, I reached out as far as I could with my link in a leap of faith and felt something. Was it him? I didn't know, but I decided that it was, and the thought comforted me.  
  
I had to do what I was about to do, so that my daughter would have a chance to live.  
  
I tightened my jaw and swallowed a sob.  
  
No, I wouldn't cry.  
  
I heard Legato's voice in my head, "He's here."  
  
I sipped my drink and saw him reflected in the window before me, in his red coat and upswept hair, larger than life, the Humanoid Typhoon, on top of the world, crooning over fresh donuts while probably the best friend he ever had was barely cold in his grave.  
  
He'd cried harder over Caine and Zazie than he had for Nick. The death of a friend, the death of a stranger.he seemed to give them all the same weight. The stubborn man had lessons to learn. He had forgotten how to feel and what better teacher than me. I wasn't afraid of feeling, and the first lesson I would try to teach him was pain. I would give him a just a small taste of the pain I felt, then see how much real feeling lay behind that fake smile of his.  
  
He broke down in tears. I almost didn't think he had it in him. So maybe he had cared after all, just not enough to save Nick's life.  
  
I heard two small boys, controlled by Legato, speak to the Humanoid Typhoon.  
  
"You killed Wolfwood--if it hadn't been for you and your stupid ideals, he might still be alive.."  
  
Then everyone in the plaza collapsed except for me, Legato, and Vash the Stampede. Legato was teaching the lesson his way.  
  
"How dare you toy with other people's lives," the outlaw muttered angrily.  
  
My whole life had been affected for the worse one way or the other by his actions and inaction. I wasn't about to let him get away with that self- deception.  
  
"You do the same thing." I said. He was so blind and stubborn. "You alone turned the cities of July and Augusta into rubble and bored the hole in the fifth moon. You're a monster, just like your brother."  
  
He looked up and recognized me from the church.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked.  
  
''The eleventh gung-ho Gun, Midvalley the Hornfreak., the best musician ever to walk the planet, or so I'm told. Would you care to hear a number, Vash the Stampede?"  
  
I heard the murmurs in the crowd around me and saw several of the people cut and run for their lives. That was wisdom.  
  
I raised Silvia's reed to my lips. Vash fired a bullet at me, but Silvia's wild song stopped it in mid-air and blew him back heels over head into a pile of garbage.  
  
When he righted himself, I played a few more notes and he ran at full speed to avoid their force. He was trying to figure out my strategy. Really there was no strategy, but the power from Silvia made a whirlwind that sent him flying backwards. He landed on his back with a thud.  
  
"Silvia's in good voice today. There's a lot of pleasure to be derived from listening to a well-played instrument. You seem to bring out the best in her. Please applaud if you appreciate the performance. It's the least you can do, since I'm playing in your honor."  
  
"Why don't you finish me off? If you were serious, you could have killed me already."  
  
"It's simple. The gig isn't mine to play by choice. Call it a command performance and you'd be right on the money."  
  
"Knives?" he asked.  
  
"Bingo! Anyone working for Knives is at his beck and call. You relinquish all rights and free thought--end of discussion."  
  
"You're wrong. It's not like that," he said and he started towards me.  
  
"I suppose that a superior being like yourself would know that. Pardon my ignorance. I'm only human with a human's thoughts and feelings."  
  
"I can't control my limbs!" a man cried out in panic as he stumbled with robotic steps into my line of fire. Legato must be tiring of the game.  
  
"Legato," yelled Vash the Stampede.  
  
I started to play again.  
  
Before the sound waves hit the man, Vash ran at top speed to intercept them and he was rocked by the blow.  
  
"No, please don't kill me," begged another man, his limbs manipulated by Legato. Again, Silvia sang a song of pain and the outlaw ran to shield him.  
  
Then another man staggered into the street and Silvia's song sought him out, but still the outlaw threw himself in front of the sonic blast.  
  
The effort it took to put out that much power was exhausting me. Sweat poured down my face.  
  
He lay on the ground wincing from the pain. But he still didn't understand. Legato could murder every person in that town as could I. Didn't he see how dangerous we were. He should have killed me.  
  
I walked over and lifted his chin with the toe of my boot.  
  
"Talk about an iron will. Always so sure, you know what's right and everyone else is wrong. God, you're stubborn."  
  
I would have admired him if his attitude didn't exasperate me so much. He couldn't bring himself to kill to defend a town full of people, or even to save his best friend's life. I wondered if he truly cared about anyone or just about the stupid vow he'd made. Did he really think it was worth the price? I had seen the graves in the Valley of the Dead, and cradled the body of my dead lover in my arms? Was his vow worth a price like that?  
  
He tripped the firing mechanism on his artificial arm, but I stepped on it to try to stop him from shooting.  
  
"The show must go on," I said with a feeling of regret and I played a few more notes.  
  
"Stop!" he cried and managed to free his arm just enough to get off a burst of gunfire.  
  
His bullets smashed into the pavement.  
  
"It's no use," I said to myself. I could see he was angling for a ricochet. With his skill, strength and speed, and as exhausted as I was, I knew it was only a matter of time.  
  
With his next shot, his bullets hit a pipe and bounced back. I felt the impact when they hit Silvia and I stumbled backwards. Then Vash fired directly at my Silvia and punctured her golden bell.  
  
I knew she was ruined, but I put my lips on the reed and tried to play a note anyway.  
  
"My B-flat! My B-flat is gone!" I could have wept. I had hoped to play my last notes feeling the link with Nick.  
  
"The show is over now," he said--just as smug and dogmatic as his brother.  
  
"You were trying for a ricochet shot the whole time," I said, "but you're wrong about the show being over. I still have music for an encore."  
  
I pressed the button that revealed the guns concealed in the metal sleeve of my sax.  
  
Tears stung my eyes knowing that the beautiful music that Silvia and I made together was over forever. She had always been so good to me I thought with regret.  
  
In the dust I saw his pale eyes pleading with me not to do what I had to do.  
  
"This is the music of destruction, I must accept my fate," I said.  
  
"You have free will, you don't have to do this. If you pull that trigger-- " he didn't finish the sentence.  
  
I knew it would explode, probably blow away my face.  
  
He just didn't get it that I was paying for his sins of omission with my life. I was doing it to save my daughter. But who did he care about.? Did he really care about anyone but himself? I had failed as a teacher. Now it was time for Legato's lessons to begin.  
  
With the warm morning sun on my face, I thought of the words from "Serenade"  
  
"With the sun's first light, imagine my delight, when I see you lying close to me so warm.." I hummed the tune to myself and closed my eyes. I believed I could feel Nick with me. I could almost see his face . I pulled the trigger. 


	46. Epilogue to Midvalley's Serenade

Epilogue to Midvalley's Serenade  
  
It was quiet in the copse where Midvalley the Hornfreak and Nicholas D. Wolfwood lay buried side by side, but the man heard the faint sound of children's laughter floating on the wind. That same breeze blew through the water reeds and made a haunting sound like music.  
  
He stood before Midvalley's grave and read the inscription on the tombstone, For Love and Music. The priest's epitaph bore the words, For Love and Peace.  
  
The man fell into a dreamlike state and was only roused from his contemplation by the sound of footsteps behind him.  
  
When the girl with the violin joined him, she raised her bow to the strings, he brought his trumpet to his lips and they played his son's soul to rest.  
  
The lingering question remains, were the lovers ever reunited? For some the question evokes sadness for they doubt the possibility.  
  
For others, the answer is an article of faith.  
  
May the circle be unbroken.  
  
Finis  
  
============================================================================ =========  
  
Afterword to Midvalley's Serenade  
  
I would like to thank my son, Andrew, for bringing home the first VHS tape of Trigun on that cold day in February.  
  
I want to thank Yasuhiro Nightow for creating the complex intriguing characters that have obsessed me for the last year and a half.  
  
I need to give thanks to Tsuneo Imahori and the musicians who worked with him to create the inspirational sound track of Trigun. First and Second Donuts were my daily companions as I drove to and from work, thinking of Nick and Middie. For me, Not an Angel could be their theme song.  
  
I want to thank Tomo Trillions. Her beautiful fan fiction To Love a Lie first opened my eyes to the artistic potential of yaoi.  
  
I want to thank Katsa5 for inspiring with her wonderful love story, Trigun 'Action' She gave me my first review, the courage to keep on writing when I had severe doubts about my ability, and offered me her friendship.  
  
To anyone, who took the time to read such a long fiction, I offer you my thanks. I am very much in debt to those who left reviews, and gave me hope that such an epic undertaking was not a complete waste of my time. So thank you Katsa for your constant support and for your fanart.  
  
iMaxed5770, thanks for your encouragement.  
  
Kasianne, thanks so much for your reviews. Good luck on the job hunt.  
  
Thank, Lianna, for being one of the first to keep me going when I was wavering. You didn't know it, but your reviews came at good times.  
  
Same to you, Novalda, whoever you are, bless you. The day your review came, I was wallowing in self-doubt. Thank you.  
  
Ish, Miraba, Sasha, Amanda, Cheyenne, jodlet Bluesummers, carole, Midnight Shadow, Akemi-sama, Amy..thank you , thank you, thank you to infinity and beyond.  
  
Lynz1, Katsa, Lynx 12, Rachia, and Michelle Micky---woohoo, thanks for putting me on your favorite's list.  
  
Thank you for your reviews, too.  
  
Ah, Bennu, thank you so much. I'm gonna hold you to your offer you know. You can't get out of it that easily..a fanart for MS.and thank you so much for your reviews.  
  
Alucard 2. I have to thank you for starting up the reviews when I returned to FF.net.thanks for being one of the first.  
  
Vinnyvalentino---praise from you is praise indeed.  
  
Sumire, your Put a little Hornfreak in your Soul shrine to Midvalley was a sweet inspiration as was your introduction to the work of the queen of the sensual lip as you put it, doujinshka, Ukiko Kiyota of UDT Maximum. Her Midvalley/ Wolfwood work is as gorgeous as you told me.  
  
Ping, dear Pan Ping-li, thank you for your reviews and for hosting my story on your Anime Palace website.  
  
Sweet Insanity, yes, you are sweet. Thank you so much.  
  
Sasha_hates_everyone and viciouscallisto, I am grateful for your reviews on the last chapters of MS.  
  
Xeriah, thanks for reading, reviewing, and for your friendship.  
  
Katsa, I owe you so much. I am in your debt forever.  
  
Speaking of in debt for ever..I have to thank my son, Andrew. He started to proofread for me somewhere around a third of the way through the book and it's him I have to thank for the idea of using E.G. Mines' weapon suit as a meat tenderizer. He acted as my editor in later chapters, highlighted areas where he thought I should change wording, and saved me from silly mistakes and grammatical lapses when fatigue or apathy made me sloppy or soppy. He was a sounding board for my various plot threads as well. I could have done it without him, but I'd still be back on chapter 25..come to think of it, I probably couldn't have done it without him. So thank you, Andrew. No one could ask for a better editor. You are gifted.  
  
To anyone I have missed and to my future readers and reviewers I offer my thanks. 


End file.
